


The Pursuit of Happiness

by theHunter_and_theNinja



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Character Death, Daryl and Sasha are dancers, Eventual Happy Ending, In-character use of Homophobic and racist slurs, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Underage Rape/Non-con, Young Daryl Dixon, Young Sasha Williams, trans!Daryl Dixon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 67,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theHunter_and_theNinja/pseuds/theHunter_and_theNinja
Summary: Daryl Dixon was born Darla Dixon, but he never really felt like a girl. This is a story focusing on the difficult life of Daryl Dixon. Starting life struggling against a transphobic, abusive father to surviving the walker apocalypse.After escaping his father, Daryl finds his forever family, but will it hold strong when the apocalypse hits?__________________________The underage non-con is only at the end of the first chapter--which is mainly a set-up chapter for the world he's living in--but it is mentioned and described in chapters beyond that since it is a central part of Daryl's childhood and story.____________________________Paul enters the story in chapter 10!





	1. Darla Dixon

**Author's Note:**

> While I am apart of the LGBT community as a demisexual person and I have done a fair share of research into the transgender community for this piece, I am not transgender. I want to be mindful of the fact that I know nothing about this experience personally so my depiction of it, while influenced by research, may not be exactly accurate. If this happens, please feel free to DM me via Tumblr. My Tumblr handle is the same as the one I have on here, @thehunter-and-theninja. I want it to be as accurate as possible despite this story not necessarily being solely about Daryl's transitional journey and more about everything that happens in his life all coming together to create the Daryl we all know and love.
> 
> The first few chapters are not an easy read (and some future ones will be difficult as well). The story will turn more positive but, while there is a happy ending (I promise), there will be sections of graphic violence against different characters. It is a story with very positive moments, but also very dark moments as well.
> 
> P.S. As always, my stories are unbetaed so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.
> 
> That being said, please mind the tags and enjoy. :)

It was a cold day in January the night Darla Dixon was born. She was born in the living room of her family’s house with only her older brother, Merle, assisting her mother with the birth. Her father, Will, couldn’t care less about the new addition to his family only seeing her as one more mouth to feed. He’d been furious when Maria told him she was pregnant for the second time; he hadn’t even wanted the first one.

They didn’t have enough money to afford to have her at the hospital, so home birth it was. The newborn screamed as she entered the world landing in a soft pile of blankets between her mother’s legs. Her brother immediately helped his mother to sit up and propped her up like she’d showed so she could reach her baby. Maria groaned in pain as she carefully cradled the child against her and took care in getting him to nurse from her breast. Her legs shook as the placenta slid out of her and onto the blankets. Merle gagged at the sight, but didn’t hesitate to clear the bloody mess away.

Merle, who is only five years old, breathed a sigh of relief when the baby stopped screaming so it could feed. She was so tiny and completely covered in blood. They needed to give her a bath as soon as possible, but food came first. Once she was finished eating, the baby let her mother go only making a few quiet moans as she tried to get comfortable. Merle made his way into the other room to get the large oval bucket for his mother to wash the baby in. He filled it with lukewarm water and placed it next to her. He then put the baby chair in so that she’d be safe while her mother washed her.

It was slow going, but soon enough all the blood was gone from her skin. She cried as she experienced water for the first time and her mother smiled down at her. Merle didn’t quite know what to make of her. She was so tiny and fragile lying there in the now reddish water.

“Dad!” Merle called out, “Don’t you want to come meet her?”

“No,” came Will’s reply just over the volume of the game he was watching in the other room, “Just shut that thing up. I’m trying to listen to the game.”

Merle hated his father already, but felt his angry grow at his disregard for his own newborn daughter. It was in that moment that Merle vowed to himself to protect this baby from his father to the best of his ability,

Maria lifted the newborn out of the water and used a clean towel to dry her off before wrapping her up in a plush, light pink blanket. The baby made a gurgling noise in her throat as she settled against her mother’s chest, fast asleep.

“Merle, do you want to hold her?” Maria asked.

Merle nodded eagerly and reached out for the baby. His mother stopped him and instructed him how to sit so he could properly support the child. She carefully placed her in his arms, checking to make sure she was safe before letting go. The baby whimpered a bit at the move, but remained asleep much to Merle’s relief. Merle watched silently, eyes flicking back and forth between his mother and his little sister, as Maria used the water to clean herself off. She laid a blanket over her lower half not having the energy to get dressed.

“What’s her name?” Merle asked once his mom was done and settled back by his side.

“Darla, after your grandmother, my mother,” she ran her fingers gently over the light brown fuzz covering the baby’s head.

He already loved her more than anyone else in the world and he’s only known her for about an hour. Merle smiled down at his new sister, Darla Dixon. 

* * *

_ Darla - age 6, Merle - age 11 _

Darla huddled against the wall in the corner of her and Merle’s room as she listened to her father beat her mother just outside the door. He was angry that she’d bought the wrong beer at the store today. Darla knew it wasn’t her mother’s fault though, the beer they normally bought was sold out so she’d picked one similar hoping it would please him. But when her father saw it was the wrong beer, he didn’t let her explain, he just started screaming at her.

She’d yelled at her and Merle to go to their room just as his father started undoing his belt. Darla knew what that meant having already felt the stinging leather across her back more than once. Often times Merle stepped in and stopped her father before he could go too far, sometimes even taking her place on the floor.

Darla whimpered and clutched her arms tighter around herself in an attempt to block out the noise of her mother in pain. Merle noticed her distress and moved away from the door to gather her up in his arms.

“Hush, Darla,” he whispered, “It’ll be over soon. The old man will lose steam any moment now and they we can go check on her.”

“It’s isn’t right,” Darla cried softly, “It wasn’t her fault she had to buy a different kind of beer.”

“I know little sis, but you and I both know Daddy really doesn’t care whose fault it is. He’s beaten us because it’s pouring and he wanted to go hunting. The man is evil just because he feels like it.”

Darla pressed her face against her brother’s chest, “Why don’t we leave then?”

Merle sighed, he really didn’t have an answer as to why they stayed. He couldn’t understand why his mother still loved their father when he did things like this to her and her children. It’s almost like she’s too scared to leave and too ashamed to ask for help. Merle wondered if their neighbors would help even if they knew. It was no secret that his father, Will Dixon, is a violent man -- his history of bar fights can vouch for that -- so it shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that he beats his family. Sometimes he wondered if they did know and just didn’t care enough to risk tangling with Will themselves.

The only good thing his father ever did for him was teach him how to hunt when he was closer to Darla’s age. His father had stopped their lessons not long after Darla was born and his drinking habit increased tenfold. Seeing that his father wasn’t going to teach Darla how to do it because she’s a girl, Merle took it upon himself to show her how. She took to it like a fish to water often besting Merle, something Merle usually refused to acknowledge.

A particularly loud scream from their mother and the sound of something breaking brought Merle back to the present. He could feel Darla sobbing into his chest, shaking like a leaf in his arms.

“Why can’t you stop it?” Darla asked, “Just use the crossbow and stop it?”   
Merle looked down at her in shock from what she was implying, “No matter how much I want to, I can’t. They’ll take me away from you and I won’t allow that to happen.”

Darla sniffled before nodded and huddling closer to him, tears still streaming down her small face.

“Now you listen to me baby sister,” Merle spoke with authority, “I ain’t never going to let that bastard hurt you like he hurts our ma. I promise that I’ll always be here to protect you, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you,” Darla said as the sounds from the beyond the door started to slow before finally stopping.

They heard the heavy footsteps of their father go by down the hall to their parents room. Muffled weeping started up as they two creeped towards the door. They waited until they heard the door to their parent’s room shut before venturing out into the hall. Merle quickly made his way into the living room only to see his mother lying on the ground bleeding from many cuts across her back.

“Darla, go get the first aid kit,” Merle instructed as he helped his mother climb onto the couch.

Darla quickly reappeared holding the kit having grown used to this pattern of events. Her father beats the holy hell out of one of them and it’s the job of the other two to patch them back up. Her mother whimpered as Darla watched Merle clean the wounds and bandage them after helping her remove her shirts leaving her in only her bra and pants.

Darla already had a scar or two from her father’s belt as did Merle, but none as bad as the ones her mother had.

“Mama?” Darla tried.

“Yes, baby?” she whispered weakly.

“Why don’t you leave him?”

“Because I love him,” she explained sadly, “And I have nowhere to run to even if I wanted to go. I know he’s good underneath all this hate. It’s not his fault he’s this way, he’s had a rough life.”

Darla still didn’t understand why her mother chose to stay with this man, but she didn’t question it further, she never did. This is her life, her family, all she’s ever known, so she just accepts it and does her best to stay on her father’s good side at all times.

* * *

_ Darla - age 12, Merle - age 17 _

The heat stung Darla’s eyes as the house burned around her. Her lungs felt tight from breathing in the smoke surrounding her.

“Mama!” she cried as she tried in vain to push her bedroom door open.

She knew her mother was on the other side of that door, but she couldn’t get to her. Something must’ve fallen in front of the door blocking it’s path.  She didn’t want to leave her behind even as the fire made the door hot to the touch. A shout outside made her turn around and see her brother standing outside her window. He must’ve gotten back from hunting early today.

She ran over to the window and opened it wanting him to climb in so that they could open the door together. What she didn’t expect was for her brother to reach in and start pulling her out the window.

“Wait!” she cried trying to pull away, “Ma is still in here!”

“I’ll worry about her next,” Merle assured her, “But I’m getting you out first. The firefighters are already on their way.”

Darla coughed harshly as she let Merle pull her from the house just as her bedroom door went up in flames. Merle wrapped her up in his arms and sprinted around the side of the house to the front. Darla could see now just how bad the fire is. Flames were pouring out of the roof and the windows in the front had broken from the heat and pressure.

“Mama!” Darla screamed throwing a hand out towards the house.

Merle stopped her from running to the house by lowering her onto the ground and capturing her in his strong arms. She fought to get free, but eventually broke down allowing herself to fall to the ground. Her screams for her mother were cut short by another violent coughing fit. They could hear the sound of sirens approaching in the background as the two crouched on their front lawn in terror.

By now a large group of spectators had begun to form to watch their house burn, their life go up in flames. The fire engine pulled into their driveway and immediately jumped into action. Darla managed to catch the attention of one of them.

“She’s still in there!” he yelled over to the man, “My ma is still inside!”

Darla couldn’t stop the tears as she watched the firefighters do their jobs. They started hosing down the house while a few other went inside to search for her mother. They came back out only minutes later empty handed. Darla starred over at them and watched as one of them shook their head at him.   
It was like the world went silent, she couldn’t hear anything as a scream was ripped from her throat as she realized her mother was dead. She felt her legs give out as she collapsed to the ground. Her throat burned, not just from the smoke but from her cries of agony. She could just barely feel Merle rocking her back and forth on the ground. She wasn’t sure how long she cried, all she knew was that when she finally stopped the fire was out and the men were heading inside with a bodybag and stretcher.

She watched as the men wheeled the bag holding her mother out of the house and load her up into some truck to be taken away. She wanted to run over and stop them, but couldn’t find the energy. She found herself wishing it was her dad in that body bag instead of her mother. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew this was her dad’s fault no matter how indirectly. It’s her dad’s fault her mother started drinking, his fault she started smoking, his fault she started losing weight, his fault her back as a mess of scar tissue, so she was sure this fire was somehow his fault too.

A couple of cops walked over to them and tried to ask her a few questions but she couldn’t make out the words through the smoke in her brain as she processed her mother’s death. She was just barely aware of the officers leading them away and driving them to the station. She didn’t remember giving a statement, but heard the words unintentional suicide being thrown around.

It was hours before their father came to collect them from the station having not wanted to lose out on earning a few extra dollars at his job just to come get his kids. He seemed unphased by the death of his wife, but the cops quickly ruled out murder since he’d been at work all day long. Her death was later ruled an accident from her falling asleep on the couch with a lit cigarette and an open bottle of alcohol. The cigarette lit the alcohol they believe she accidentally spilled on the couch and sent herself and the house up in flames.

Darla quickly realized this meant her mother had been dead since the very beginning of the fire and she’d been trying to get to her in vain, she’d already died. Darla refused to speak for days afterwards. They salvaged what they could and moved into their hunting trailer on the outskirts of town. It was a bit rundown and dirty, but they didn’t have the money to move elsewhere and it didn’t seem like her father cared all that much. The routine didn’t change despite the life altering event. He’d get drunk, find something to bitch about, beat whoever was closets, pass out in bed and leave the other one to patch the injured one up.

* * *

_ Darla - age 13, Merle - age 18 _

“How could you!?!” Darla demands to know after her brother explains that he’s joined the army and is leaving.

“Darla...” Merle starts but is cut off by an extremely angry Darla.

“You promised to always be here to protect me. How can you do that when your on the other side of the world fighting an enemy that doesn’t matter?”

“Darla, if I stay here any longer I’m going to kill him. I have to go if I want to have any hope in getting you away from here someday,” he tried to reason with her.

Ever since the passing of their mother last year, Darla’s begin growing into a fierce young woman. She’s a better tracker and hunter than he ever was and is smarter than Merle had ever hoped to be.

“Why can’t we just leave now? You’re eighteen,” she begged.

“We can’t, it’s illegal for me to take you without Dad signing you over to me and the state approving it. I’d be willing to bet Dad would be happy to sign you over, but the government would never allow it because of my record and my lack of income. That’s why I’m joining the army.”

“To make enough money to get us both out of here?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back as soon as I have enough money to get us an apartment somewhere. I promise, I’m doing this to protect you little sis.”

She looked skeptical, but relented finally. She pulled Merle into a hug.

“Now you stay out of trouble,” Merle teases, “Understand?”

“Same goes for you,” Darla shot back playfully.

Her father had no reaction to the news, he just kind of grunted and sat down to watch TV. He didn’t even wish his oldest kid goodbye as he left. Darla waved sadly as she watched her only source of protection walk out the door and leave her behind, alone with her father. She hid from Merle just how scared she was not wanting to be the cause of Merle going to jail for killing their father.

“Darla, get over here and bring me a beer!” her father yelled from the living room.

She quickly turned and went back inside to do her father’s bidding so as to avoid getting the belt.

* * *

_ Darla - age 13, 4 months after Merle left _

Darla glared at herself in the mirror, her breasts were beginning to show. They’d begun growing around her 11th birthday, but they still weren’t me very big. She hoped this meant they were going to stay relatively small only reaching an A or B cup. She’d gotten some training bras from the local resale store to help support her growing chest, but she rarely wore them while she was at home. She hated her growing breasts as she stared at the offending small mounds of flesh on her chest. She’d heard her brother and father talk many times about how amazing boobs are, but she just couldn’t understand their fascination even as they grew on her very own chest.

She found herself envying the boys as their chests remained flat while hers began to grow and change. She longed for her flat chest wishing for her boobs to stop growing and disappear.

She’d also gotten her first period this past week. Her father had not been happy about having to go out and buy her some pads when she started bleeding. At first, she didn’t know what was going on and panicked. It took her a few minutes to remember one of her teachers explaining what it was during a special assembly at school. She used a rag to stop the blood from leaking until her father got back with a few different boxes of pads. It took her a few tries to get the position just right so that she didn’t bleed on something, but she eventually figured it out.

This was something else she despised. She hated the abdominal pain as she bled between her thighs. She hates her breasts and her period, two things most of the other girls in her class were excited about getting. She didn’t see the appeal and wished for her body to go back to the way it was before puberty.

For the first time in her life she began to wonder if she was a girl at all.

* * *

“Hey Dad,” Darla whispered quietly while sitting next to him on the couch.

Today was one of her Dad’s good days. He’d gotten a promotion at work and was feeling fine for the first time in a very long time. He was still drinking, but he wasn’t grumpy and irritable this time.

“Yeah?” he mumbled absentmindedly eyes fixed on the football game in front of him.

“Is it possible for someone who was born one gender to actually be the other?” she asked innocently.

It was like dropping a bomb onto an otherwise peaceful village. Her father’s demeanor changed instantly as he whipped around to look at her.

“No,” he snarled.

“Oh,” she said disappointed.

“There are some freaks who think they’re the opposite gender to what they were born with, but they’re wrong and disgusting. Why do you care? What made you think of this?” he demanded to know.

“I just...” she began.”

“What?!?” her father growled getting in her face.

“It’s just that I don’t feel like a girl,” she blurted out, “I feel like a boy.”

Her father snarled at her and smacked her hard across the face knocking her to the ground.

“You. Are. A. Girl,” he spat into her face punctuating each with with a kick to her ribs.

Darla cried out at she felt her ribs bruise under the slam of his boots against her chest. He grabbed her long brown hair and dragged her up. She struggled to stand, but his tight grip made her.

“You see this Darla, ” he yelled in her face, “only girls and faggots have long hair.”

He used his grip on her to yank her around causing tears to cascade down her face. Each time he called her a girl it felt wrong somehow, like something inside of her was screaming “No, I’m not a girl. I’m a boy.”

He punched her in the face making her fall onto the floor. She scrambled to sit up only to see her father glaring at her, face red and eyes wild.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you how I know you’re a girl.”

She screamed and tried to move backwards away from her father as he did something he’s never done before, lowered himself to his knees over her. She flipped herself over onto her stomach and tried to get her feet under herself so she could run away, but her father caught her by the ankle making her stumble and fall. He crawled on top of her body, holding her there beneath him.

“You see,” came his threatening voice in her ear, “girls have pussies while boys have cocks. And you, Darla, have a pussy. Which means you are a girl and I am a boy.”

She whimpered under him and squirmed to escape but her father’s weight was too much for her 13 year old body. She was stuck, trapped between her father and the hardwood floor. She felt her father place his hands over hers, holding them there above her head. He then rolled his hips against her and she cried out in fear when she felt something hard pressing into her thigh.

“I’m going to show you,” he hissed into her ear, “just how different we are so that you never make the mistake of thinking you’re anything other than a weak, pathetic girl like your mother was.”

He forced her onto her back before grabbing her by the front of her shirt and dragging her to the side of the room. He used some of the rope they used to lay traps to bind her hands to the base of their wooden coffee table. She pulled as hard as she could but the knots wouldn’t budge and the table was too heavy for her to move.

Then, he was on her again, but this time he was touching her all over. He ran one of his hands across her growing breasts and the other across the flat of her stomach. He reached into his back pocket and produced a knife. Darla panicked and started struggling more when she saw it glinting in the sunlight. Her father didn’t slash her though, he just used it to cut off her shirt and bra leaving her upper body exposed to her father.

“Look here, Darla. You have breasts,” he licked his lips as he stared at her freshly naked chest, “boys don’t have those.”

He move forward and cupped them, as small as they were. She whimper a bit when he moved his thumbs over her nipples unsure what to do with this new stimulation. Nobody has ever touched her like this and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

She watched in horror as her father moved onto her jeans. She kicked at him as he tried to remove them. He growled at her and slapped her to get her to stop. It worked as she started to become dizzy with fear and pain. She caught the look of lust in her father’s eyes as he stared down at her, naked except for her underwear.

“So pretty,” he breathed pushing his hand down onto his cock still encased in his jeans just to give himself some relief, “much prettier than your mother.”

She could practically see him drooling over her and it scared her. She’d already figured out what he intended to do to her but she didn’t know how to stop him. She learned about sex along with puberty at school a few months ago and the entire thing scared her. It was during that special assembly that she began to notice the girls around her being excited for the changes while she dreaded them. It was the first time she’d dared to think that maybe she wasn’t a girl.

Her father reached for her again and dragged her underwear off of her leaving her completely naked. She pressed her legs together to try to keep her father away from her, but it was to no avail. He easily pried apart her legs to expose her most intimate part to him. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as he reached forward and ran his finger up and down her slit. The feeling was strange and unwelcome and she tried to scoot back away from the hand, but her father kept her firmly in place.

He used his fingers to part her lips and explore her body further. He quickly located her entrance having no interest in making this even remotely good for her. He didn’t feel any slick so he lifted his fingers to her lips.

“Suck,” he commanded her, “do it now or I’ll go in dry.”

She cried, but allowed her father to push his thick fingers inside of her mouth. She did her best to coat them terrified of him hurting her. He roughly pulled them from her mouth and returned to her pussy. He didn’t hesitate to push one finger inside of her virgin hole. She whimpered at the foreign feeling of being entered but her father paid her no head and pushed his finger in to the knuckle. He quickly progressed to two fingers making her legs shake as it hurt when the second one went in next to the first.

He start pumping both fingers inside of her and she realized it was to help prep her for him since she wasn’t producing any slick herself. She cried out when he moved his fingers apart to stretch her open. To her horror, she began to feel herself get wet to accommodate the fingers inside of her. Her father smiled cruelly indicating he’s felt it too.

He pulled his fingers out and pushed her onto her back so that she was directly beneath him. He made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his cock. She froze when she caught sight of it. It was huge, it was never going to fit inside her tiny adolescent body. He licked his hand and rubbed it up and down the shaft before ridding himself of his pants and shirt leaving them both naked.

She struggled as he lowered himself on top of her, his cock bumping her inner thigh. It was hot and heavy against her tiny body. He hit her in the head against to stop her struggling. He didn’t wait long to line himself up with her entrance. She could feel it there, pulsing against her, impossibly big and unbelievably hard.

“Dad,” she whimpered, “please stop. Please don’t do this.”

Her father snarled in her ear, “I’m doing this so that you never mistake your pussy for a cock ever again.”

She screamed when he started pushing inside. The stretch was too much for her as her body started tensing up in an attempt to prevent her father from pushing inside.

“Relax,” he snapped at her, “this will only make it worse for you.”

She whimpered as tears ran down her face as she tried to do as he said, but it was really difficult to relax in the middle of being violated. Finally he stopped pushing as stilled, it had felt like an eternity. Part of her prayed that it was over, but she knew it wasn’t. She could feel his balls resting against her ass and the painful burn of her father’s cock inside of her. It only got worse when he began to thrust. The pain increased with each new thrust inside her virgin body. Well, technically not a virgin anymore.

The endless push and pull felt like it lasted forever, her legs stretched around his waist as he towered over her. She was horrified when she began to enjoy it a bit. Once her body had adjusted to the intrusion, her pleasure center went to work. Now she was moaning instead of screaming out, unable to control her body or her reactions with how tired she was.

She could feel heat pooling in her stomach, it felt like she had to pee. Her father’s thrusts started to become erratic and his breathing uneven. He sped up his thrusts like he was chasing something but she didn’t know what. Suddenly, her body was overtaken by the growing sensation and she gave a whole body shudder as pleasure overtook her mind. She quickly came down from her high when her father came to a stop and released something inside of her. She could feel a warm gush of fluid inside her, but she didn’t know what was going on. It scared her to not know what it was.

Her father gave her a few more shallow thrusts before pulling out of her body. She cried in relief of having her father out of her, letting her legs collapse out of their bent position around his waist. She could feel something leaking out of her, but she was too tired to care.

“That’s the difference between girls and boys Darla,” he said breathing hard.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you and them,” he threatened before getting up and heading back to his room.

Her father untied her and left her there in a heap on the floor. Sticky and in pain, barely able to move. She managed to get up onto her knees and then onto her shaking legs. She barely made it to her room before she collapsed. She clawed her way up onto her bed and covered her naked body with blankets. She cried for the pain, the violation of her body, and the loss of her virginity to her father, taken by force.

This whole thing was meant to prove that she was a girl and not a boy, but no matter how hard she tried she still didn’t feel like a girl. She didn’t care that she has a pussy, she’s a boy.

“I’m a boy,” he whispered to himself, “I’m a boy.”


	2. Becoming Daryl Dixon

_Darla - age 13_

It was a few weeks after his father raped him on the floor of their trailer. He wasn’t sore anymore, but the comments his father made about his gender were becoming more and more threatening. He wanted to run, but he remembered that his brother was coming back for him soon. Merle had promised to return after a year to take him away from his father.

He also felt like he didn’t have energy to survive out on his own. He often felt like everything he used to do is pointless. How can he just go back to the way things used to be when everything is so different. Nothing has been the same since that night.

A shadow image of his father now haunts him in his mind everywhere he goes, just waiting to reach out and take him again. People he once thought of as friends were now more acquaintances as he’d stopped talking to them for the most part. He relished the safety of the school when it came to his father, but he still felt under threat at all times. He knew just how horrible people can be. He can feel part of him just waiting for some bully to grab him and take him against his will just like his father did. He avoided upperclassmen at all costs, going out of his way to stay away from them.

He crossed and pressed his thighs together tightly on the couch wanting to prevent anyone from having easy access to him. He was currently at the library reading to pass the time and stay away from his father. The local library has become a place of refuge for him as he explore his gender identity. He was certain he was a boy, but he didn’t entirely understand what to do with this newfound revelation. So, he turned to books to help guide him. He read books on gender and LGBT literature. Why the hell this library in the middle of nowhere Georgia had LGBT literature he had no idea, but he was grateful for it.

“You enjoying that?” someone asked from beside him.

He jumped and tried the hide the book on transgenders he was reading from sight.

“No!” he yelped as he scrambled to get away.

“Whoa, whoa! I’m not going to hurt you,” it was definitely a woman’s voice.

He slowly looked up at her. She looked about four years older than him and half a foot taller. She was African American and dressed in a tank top and jean shorts. She had a Wonder Woman backpack slung across her back. He was so scared that she was going to tell people what he was reading about. She didn’t appear to be threatening him, but he wasn’t sure yet.

He had never been an open person when it came to strangers, but ever since that horrible night he’s been even more wary of them. Sometimes the wrong touch could send him into a debilitating flashback. It’s happened at school many times already and he was terrified of it happening again. The teacher hadn’t meant anything by it, they were just checking to make sure he was okay. One time, someone with a similar voice to his father calling his name set him off. He’d panicked and run away. He’d gotten detention for that one.

“What do you want?” he snapped at her.

“Just curious as to why you’re reading about the transgender experience.”

“What’s it to you?” he still didn’t trust her questioning.

“My name’s Sasha Williams. It’s just nice to know I might not be the only LGBT person in this shit town,” she explained not coming any closer and trying a different approach by removing the attention from the girl... or boy.

“You’re LGBT?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, my family and I had to move because I was outed as gay at my old school and people weren’t very accepting of it.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“I was bullied and beaten up by some of my more homophobic classmates. My parents pulled me out of school after that.”

He swallowed hard, he was even more scared now. He didn’t have the sanctuary of a kind home life to run to if school became hell. Right now school was kind of his safe place.

Sasha noticed the affect her words had on him, “Are you okay?”

He looked up at her and could see the concern in her face.

“No,” he whispered, “I think I’m a boy.”

Sasha slowly sat down next to him on the couch, “Well that’s okay...”

“No it’s not. My father says I’m a freak. He... he hates me for even thinking it.”

Her heart when out to him and wanted so badly to comfort him but she had just met him and didn’t know how he’d react to touch. She could make out the fading purple mark of a black eye and wondered if he was being abused at home.

“What does your mother think?” she tried.

“She’s dead. Died in a fire a long time ago,” he revealed closing the book and laying down on the table in front of them.

“I’m sorry,” she tried.

“It’s fine.”

She was at a loss as to how to get through to this boy. It was quiet as she tried to think of another way to approach this. She wanted to help him, but was unsure as to how. Her face lit up when she got an idea.

“Have you decided on a name you prefer or do you want to keep your original name?”

He looked up at her in confusion, “what do you mean a different name?”

“Well, sometimes people who are a different gender to the one they were born with like to choose a new name to go with their correct gender.”

“I don’t know. Never thought about it.”

“What’s your name?” she prompted.

“Darla,” he replied turning to face her.

“Do you want to keep it?”

He thought about every time he was called by that name. His mother had softly said the name when she put him to bed and kissed his cheek. His brother used the name when he taught him how to hunt. Then the nightmare images came. His father screamed the name as he beat him into the ground. His father used the name as he stole his virginity from him.

“No, I hate my name,” he decided.

“Do you want me to help you pick a new name?” she asked him.

He nodded, “Yeah, I don’t even know where to start.”

“First thing, do you want a name similar or completely different?”

He thought about it for a second. If the name was a bit similar he could easily imagine his mother calling him it, but not so similar that it would pain him when his father called him Darla.

“Similar.”

“Okay, let’s go look at some names,” she said standing up and holding out her hand.

He slowly stood up and took her hand, “where are we going?”

“To the kids section, they have new baby name books,” she explained leading towards the kids section.

“How do you know about them?”

“I work here on the weekends. More than a few expecting mothers have come in to use the books.”

She led him over and pulled out the book that had mainly masculine names in it. It was a pale blue color with the image of tiny blue baby shoes on the cover. Inside were lists upon lists of possible names. She quickly opens to the names starting with D.

“Any of these strike you as good names?”

He looked down at the book and read some of the names listed there. Dale, Dillian, Dominic, Dustin, and so many more. None of the really pulled his interest as he looked over them. He went through a few pages of it not really finding anything. Sasha was next to him going through a difference book full of both feminine and masculine names. She kept throwing out names she liked to see if any caught his attention.

“What about this one?” she spoke up, “Daryl.”

The word caught his attention, “I like it.”

“Do you like it enough to have it be your name?” she asked cautiously.

“Daryl Dixon,” he said trying the name out for size.

Sasha decided to try something.

“Hi Daryl, it’s nice to meet you,” she said softly smiling at him.

He looked ready to cry, but he was smiling so she knew he was beyond happy.

He nodded, “Yeah, my name’s Daryl Dixon.”

He jumped into her and hugged her surprising both her and himself. She wrapped her arms around him and held him as he experienced and enjoyed acceptance for the first time. He normally hated people wrapping their arms around him now. He briefly remembered all his old friends are boys like his father while she’s very much a girl. The worst of his triggers have been started by men which makes sense. He also figured it wasn’t upsetting to him because he’s started to tentatively trust her.

The hug felt nice enough despite the pressing on his chest. Most importantly, however, he felt safe from the shadow of his father if only for a moment. He wanted to hug her again and keep on hugging her until his father died and was no longer a threat.

* * *

_Daryl - age 15_

Sasha has become his best friend, often pulling him out of his downward spirals before he even knew he was in one. She is the person he spends most of his time with and he enjoys every minute of it. They spend a lot of time at the library reading and talking about the LGBT community and how they relate to it and deal with it. He also spends a lot of time at Sasha’s house with her mother. She’d accepted him immediately and call him by his chosen name. When he asked, Sasha explained her father died years ago from cancer.

Her mother, Tiana, noticed that he was binding his chest to make his breasts appear smaller or hide them completely. When she found out she took him to a store in Atlanta and bought him some bras specifically designed to bind his breasts. He considered Tiana his second mother. He loved her so much. She’d offered to cut his hair into a more masculine typical style, but he’d turned her down afraid of his father’s reaction. Instead he keeps his hair pulled back into a ponytail at all times.

Sasha knows about the abuse despite him never outright tell her, but she couldn’t understood why he was staying. He’d told her about his brother promising to come back and get him. She couldn’t believe he was still waiting on Merle to come get him. It has been over a year now and Merle still hasn’t shown up, but Daryl refused to give up on his brother.

He’d sat outside his house with all his stuff packed up and ready to go inside everyday on the week of Merle’s one year anniversary of leaving. He never came. Daryl kept on waiting for him, sometimes Sasha would offer to join him but he refused explaining his father was not kind to anyone with a skin color other than white.

When his brother didn’t show, he couldn’t handle it any longer. He’d taken his knife and used it to cut himself trying to see if physical pain could drown out the emotional pain he was feeling. He’d refused to do this despite the rape for the past year, but Merle abandoning him was the final straw that pushed him past his limit.

Sasha had caught sight of them as he was coming out of gym class the following day. She helped him stop before it even had a chance to become a severe problem. She gave him a notebook and told him to write what he was feeling down instead of self-harming to relieve the pain.

After a month, he’s no longer sitting and waiting, but he still hopes Merle will show up one of these days and save him from his father and the rape. Sasha once asked him to come live with her but Daryl refused saying Merle wouldn’t know where to find him. He also said he couldn’t live with being a financial burden. She’d tried to explain that he wouldn’t be a burden but he just kept insisting that he wasn’t moving.

Right now, he was sitting in his room staring at the calendar he uses to keep track of his periods. His father was pissed the last time he forgot when his period was coming and bled onto the couch. His period is about a week late at this point. Dread pools in his stomach as he thinks of what that could mean.

It’s been almost two years since the first time his father forced himself on him. It’s become a normal thing and Daryl can’t escape. He tried running away once but the cops caught him and dragged him back home and threatened him with juvie if he tried it again. He’d tried to tell them about what his father was doing to him, but they didn’t seem to care about it or even listen to him.

He need to buy a pregnancy test now and he also really needed to talk to Sasha, but she was out of town for the weekend at a dance competition. Sometimes his father used condoms, but when he was drunk he often forgot to. Daryl went into his closet and pulled out what little money he did have. He’d gotten it from Tiana on his birthday last year along with a journal with his name engraved on it.

It was easy to sneak out of the house since his father was passed on the bed in his bedroom. He’d passed out right after raping him last night leaving Daryl to clean himself up and crawl into his own bed. His thighs ached from the position his father had forced him into last night. His throat was also sore from his father fucking his throat yesterday morning because he’d woken up with a hard on.

He felt tears fall as he felt hatred for himself for not leaving. He was still waiting for Merle to come for him; it’s been two years since he left. The only thing he had that told him Merle was even alive was a voicemail in which Merle said he’d decided to stay in the army a while longer. He felt hatred for his brother in that moment, but it was soon blocked out by him approaching the door of the corner store.

He made his way inside and went immediately to the aisle where the pregnancy tests were. There were tons of them and he didn’t know which one to get so he grabbed a couple different ones. He couldn’t look the cashier in the face as he paid for them and then booked it from the store. He ran all the way to the library not wanting to take the test in range of his father.

He slows his walk as he enters the library not wanting to draw unwelcome attention. He locked himself in the handicap bathroom because it was a single room meaning nobody would walk in on him. He did still use the women’s restroom, but that’s only because his outward appearance was still more feminine and he hated having attention on him.

After taking a few different tests he collapsed onto the ground, his situation finally sinking in. He didn’t know what he would do if he was actually pregnant. He was certain his father wouldn’t want the kid and he didn’t want the kid. He’s 15 and in an abusive home, bringing another child into the mix would be horrible. He wishes so badly he could’ve gone to Sasha’s house. He could really use her kinds words and hugs right now.

He tapped his feet against the ground as he waited for the tests to process. It felt like an eternity before enough time past to look at the tests. He slowly pulled himself off the ground to look at them only to be met with three pink plus signs.

His chest felt tight as he struggled to breathe. His body felt heady with dread and fear as he tried to process the idea of another life growing inside of him. He wondered how far along he was. His father had forgotten the condom multiple times over the past month when he was too drunk to care. Each time he’d fought back with all his might, but was unable to escape no matter how hard he tried. His father has become very skilled at catching him off guard.

There, on the floor of the bathroom, Daryl wept for how fucked up his life had become. He wished he’d asked Sasha’s parents for sanctuary instead of trying to survive at home. He wanted to run away and never return, but he didn’t have anywhere to go.

He stood up on shaky legs and threw the used tests back into their boxes not wanting to leave them in the public bathroom trash can. He slowly made his way home in a daze and he thought about what he was going to do next. He could run and hide out in Sasha’s house and wait for them to come back on Sunday night, it’s Saturday today. It was probably the best option since his father would surely kill him if he found out he’s pregnant.

He opened the door to see his father sitting on the couch watched TV. He quickly and quietly left the room and closed the door to his room behind him. His father had long ago broken the lock. He’s also sealed the windows leaving him with no way to escape without tipping off his father that he was trying to leave.

He threw his few belonging into a duffle bag except for his crossbow which he slung across his back. He put his knife on his waist and readied himself to sprint to the front door. He made his way into the living room and then bolted across the space, but his father was faster than he anticipated and he caught him by the back of the duffle bag. He pulled him back against him.

“Darla, where do you think you’re going?” he growled into his ear.

Daryl closed his eyes in fear, voice shaking, “I’m just going to spend the night at my friend’s house.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. He just left the part about never coming back out.

“Then why are you taking your crossbow?”

Daryl swallowed hard, “She wanted to see it. She thinks it’s cool that I can shoot it.”

His father grabbed his throat, choking him.

“Liar,” he hissed.

He ripped at Daryl’s duffle bag opening the zipper just enough that one of the opened pregnancy tests fell out. He’d planned on throwing them out Sasha’s. His father saw it at the same time Daryl did and as Daryl tried to break free his father grabbed his hair and pulled him back.

He tightened his grip on Daryl’s hair as he bends down and picked up the box. He notices the tear in the corner of the box from where Daryl had opened it. He dropped the duffle bag and opened the box against his thigh, pulling out the test. Daryl whimpers as he father yanks him down onto his knees by his hair. He really wished he’d cut it now. Dropping the test his father grabbed him by the throat and squeezed.

“What. Is. This?” he yelled in Daryl’s face.

Daryl closed his eyes as he felt spit his face, he could also feel his air being cut off and tear sliding down his face.

“Dad... I’m sorry,” he croaked our clawing at his father’s hand trying to get out of his grip.

The hand gripped tighter and threw him against the wall. He punched Daryl in the face and blood started running from his nose as he struggled to draw breathe.

“You disgusting whore! Who have you been fucking?” his father snarled at him.

“No one!” Daryl gasped out.

“You’re saying this bastard is mine?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Daryl whimpered as his father shoved his knee against his stomach and pressed.

He felt a strong instinct to protect his stomach where his unborn child was. He shoved his father’s knee away from him and covered his stomach with his arms and brought his legs up to shield his unborn baby. His maternal instinct was kicking in hard right now. He wanted to protect this baby so bad despite just a few hours ago on the floor of the library bathroom not wanting it.

“You will abort this thing,” his father threatened, “Or I’ll force you to.”

“I don’t have enough money to go to the clinic and the closet one is in Atlanta,” he gasped out, still struggling to get air back into his system.

His father grew even more enraged. He grabbed him by the hair and dragged him out onto the floor exposing his stomach no matter how hard Daryl tried to protect it. He first kick to his stomach with his father’s steel toed boots hurt like hell. Daryl cried out in agony. He scrambled to try to protect his stomach but it was to no avail. The blows kept coming, beating into his stomach and Daryl wept. He knew his father was trying to make him lose the baby and if he kept going it was going to work.

“Nobody can ever know about us. If you go there they’ll ask questions and being the bitch you are you’ll answer,” his father snarled at him as he beat him, “I’m not going to jail because of some dumb whore and her bastard kid.”

The kicking stopped and his father left him there on the floor. Daryl knew he needed to get up and get out. _Get up and get out_ was the mantra running through his head as he fought to stand. His legs shook underneath of him and his stomach hurt like hell. He felt like he was going to throw up or pass out or both.

If he could make it half a mile through the woods to a road that runs through there, he could use the phone at the convenience store to call for help. He made his way slowly out to the back porch heading towards the woods. Searing pain erupted in his lower back and he felt the unmistakable rush of something wet between his legs. He looked down only to see blood running down his legs. The pain became overwhelming and he collapsed onto the wooden porch.

He screamed out in agony once again as his body convulsed violently, working to expel his now dead unborn child. He struggled to pull his jeans off and was horrified by what he saw. There was so much blood covering his thighs, jeans, and the floor. He wept for the loss of his baby, a baby he hadn’t even really wanted. He hated his father for forcing him to miscarriage so violently. He hated his father for raping him and for getting him pregnant in the first place.

In that moment, eyes burning from crying, throat beyond sore from screaming, thighs trembling and coated in blood he decided he was going to leave his father. He was done waiting on Merle to rescue him. He was going to ask Sasha’s mom for sanctuary until he’s old enough to be on his own. He was going to clean himself up and then sneak out as soon as his father passes out for the night. It was going to be a long and painful trek to her house and then he’ll have to pick the lock, but he couldn’t do this anymore. If he stayed here one more day, he just might never make it out.

 


	3. Runaway

_Daryl - age 15, Sasha - age 19_

As Daryl walked up the road leading to Sasha’s house he could feel his legs begging to give out. He’d changed into a different outfit, but hadn’t had time to get a proper shower. He’d needed to get out as fast as possible. So, after changing clothes, he grabbed his stuff and left. He didn’t look back.

He was acutely aware of the partially dried blood of his miscarriage sticking uncomfortably to his legs underneath his jeans. The midday Georgia sun beat down on him from above making him sweat in the heat. He didn’t know what the proper steps to take right now were. He was too scared to go to the hospital alone, so his only option was to wait for Sasha to get back tomorrow afternoon.

At first, in his panic stricken state of mind, he thought he’d have to break in, but now that his mind has cleared a bit he remembered where they hide the spare key. He limped his way up onto the porch of their small one-story home and picked up the fake rock hidden in one of the flower pots. He quickly got the key out and let himself in. He wished he could contact Sasha and ask her before doing thing, but he couldn’t so he had no choice.

He locked the door behind him before going to set his stuff down in the living room. Not wanting to violate their privacy any further, he decided to sleep on the couch tonight. He was forced to pause and lean on a nearby wall as he experienced yet another contraction. He’d been feeling them all the way here, almost like aftershocks of his miscarriage.

He felt more fresh blood leak out between his thighs and he groaned. He didn’t have that many pair of pants or underwear. His father almost never bought him clothes. He hadn’t bought him anything at all for at least a year. If it wasn’t for Tiana he would still be wearing his original training bras and he was now an A cup.

He debated strongly with himself about taking a shower still scared of overstepping whatever boundaries were left. In the end he figured they’d prefer for him to shower than to sleep on their couch all bloody and dirty. He needed pads too since he wasn’t sure when the bleeding was going to stop. He’d forgotten to grab his own stash before running away so he’d have to borrow some of Sasha’s.

Daryl grabbed everything he needed to take a shower. He’d have to use their soaps since he didn’t have any. He locked the bathroom door behind him out of habit despite him being here alone. He took off his jeans and to his relief saw very little blood had soaked through his fresh underwear onto them. They’d still need to be washed before he could wear them again, but at least the stain wouldn’t be visible on the outside.

His underwear, however, was once again wet with blood. Daryl wanted to throw up. Somewhere in the blood was the discarded embryo of his now dead child.

He ran to the toilet and bent over it dry heaving into the bowl. He hadn’t had anything to eat all day so his stomach was empty. He stayed there, hunched over the bowl for he didn’t know how long. His mind felt dizzy and unfocused after the events of the day. He was quite honestly running on autopilot at this point.

He forced himself up and over to the shower. He flinched slightly at the loud noise when the water started running. He waited for the water to warm on his hand before pulling the plug to make it come out of the shower head.

His hand ghosted over the hem of his shirt. He’d refused to look at it back at the house, but now he didn’t have a choice. He slowly lifted the shirt over his head doing his best not to whimper as the moment pulled on his bruised chest. He looked up at himself in the mirror, something he normally tried to avoid doing.

He was still wearing the binding bra so he couldn’t see the full extent of the damage yet, but this was enough for now. His entire chest, spanning from his hips to right below his ribs were dark purple with lighter tones bleeding out from the main section and mixing with his normal skin tone. Some areas were even darker than others reminding Daryl about exactly what his father was trying to accomplish—did accomplish—with this beating. It was probably his most sever bearing to date, excluding the rape of course.

Daryl scrunched his nose up in disgust as he gingerly removed the binding bra. It felt good to be free of the intense pressure it put on his chest, but now he could see and feel his breasts raised up on his chest. He hated them more and more everyday. Each time he looked in the mirror and saw them he felt like he was looking at the wrong image. This isn’t him, at least it’s not supposed to be.

He didn’t like people hugging him a lot because it often meant they’d press up against his chest. Sasha was the only person he really allowed to hug him and still only when he felt he needed one to cope. He hated the comments thrown at him from girls at his school about why his breasts weren’t growing. He wasn’t out to anyone except Sasha and her parents so none of them knew they were there, he was just hiding them on purpose. To him it felt like someone has planted two emotionally cancerous tumors on his chest but instead of the doctors wanting to help him by removing them, they’re nurturing them.

More than anything he hated the feeling of being uncomfortable in his own skin. It’s his body for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t feel disgusted every time he looks in a mirror. It’s not his fault he was born in the wrong body, but now he has to deal with it; it’s not fair.

Shuddering and turning away from the mirror, he carefully stepped into the shower. The first thing he did was start washing the blood off from in between his thighs. He already knew he hated having periods because it is yet another thing to remind him of his body’s incorrect gender anatomy, but this is so much worse. He hadn’t really even had a chance to decide if he’d wanted to carry or abort it. His father robbed him, not only of his virginity, but of the choice of whether or not to keep his child.

Once he was done with his shower he switched the water off and grabbed whichever towel was closest to dry off. He made a mental note to apologize for doing that to whoever owned the towel later. He placed a pad on his underwear before pulling them on along with the rest of his clothes. He’d be going to bed soon so he decided not to put on the binding bra. He’d tried to sleep in it when he first got them, but it was just too uncomfortable.

He made sure he cleaned up anything he might’ve left in the bathroom before heading back into the living room. It was still slightly too early to go to bed, but his body was so exhausted that he didn’t have the energy to do anything else. He crawled onto the couch and laid down so his stomach wouldn’t be touched during the night and fell asleep.

* * *

He woke to the sound of whispering around him. Not remembering the events of yesterday he panicked and flung himself down off of what he thought was his bed, scrambling to get away from them. The whispers stopped as soon as he started to move away which wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right. His father never whispered, he liked making Daryl’s life a living hell. And if he ever ran his father always got louder and came after him.

He slowly began to blink his eyes open, blinded by the midday sun. He was confused when he saw cream colored unstained carpet beneath his feet. All the floors in his house are covered in a cheap, dirty green carpet.

He didn’t dare turn to see who was there as he began remembering the events of the day before. Discovering he was pregnant, the beating, the miscarriage, and finally crashing at Sasha’s house. He froze in fear, those voices were likely Sasha and her family. He’d meant to be up and waiting on the step on their front porch to explain why he was here. How late had he slept in?

He could feel his body protesting the position he was crouched in.

“Daryl?” came Sasha’s voice, “Are you okay?”

He looked up at her from the floor scared of what he would find in her face. To his surprise there was no hatred in her eyes, only concern and kindness. He could feel himself tearing up as a sense of safety seeped into him. He had no reason to believe they would hate him for crashing into their home unannounced. He stood up and slowly starting making his way over to her. He broke about halfway there and ran into her arms.

She held him against her tightly as he allowed himself to cry into her shoulder. He could tell that she was scared too. He’d never just randomly shown up with all his stuff before. She knew something drastic had happened to push Daryl out of his abusive home and into their house.

“Daryl?” she whispered, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He shook his head against her not wanting to talk about it just yet. Right now he just wanted to feel safe.

“Okay,” she relented, “Are you hungry?”

He shook his head again.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

He didn’t answer her this time.

“Would you be willing to try to eat something?”

He didn’t respond right away, but he eventually relented knowing she was just trying to help him. They pulled apart and she led him into the kitchen. He saw Tiana pulling some things out of the fridge and cupboard to make him something. He thought about protesting, but remembered that she never let him stop her from taking care of him.

“How does some eggs and toast sound?” Tiana asked smiling sweetly at him over her shoulder.

“Sounds good,” Daryl responded, his voice more than a little horse from all his crying, “Thank you, Tiana.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she brushed him off as she always did.

She’d told him more than once that he didn’t need to thank her, that they were family. He knew he felt a love for them that he doesn’t feel for his father, but wasn’t sure if that meant they were family. It’s been so long since he had one of those, if he ever did. Sasha didn’t bring up his unexpected presence again until he had finished eating.

“Daryl, you know I love having you around, but you’ve never done this before. What happened?” Sasha pleaded for him to tell her.

He flinched as a new ache began to form in his abdomen, almost like a really intense period cramp. He hoped it was just a side effect of the miscarriage and not an indication that there was something else wrong with him. Both of the women there noticed this, causing their concern to grow even more.

Daryl really didn’t know how to tell them, he couldn’t get his voice to work properly. So instead, he stood up and lifted up the bottom of his baggy shirt, stopping before revealing his breasts. He hadn’t had time to put the binder back on yet and it was making him even more uncomfortable.

The two women gasped upon seeing the damage inflicted by his father. It had only gotten darker overnight. He knew this without even looking from past experiences. He already knew it was going to get worse before it got better. Both Tiana and Sasha had tears in their eyes as they look at him.

“Who did this to you?” Tiana asked in a shaky voice.

He could hear the anger, concern and pain in her voice. Sasha found herself wanting to rip apart whoever did this, pull him close and comfort him, and take away his pain all at the same time.

“My father,” he whispered.

The two women weren’t as shocked by his answer as he’d expected them to be. It made him realize just how obvious the abuse he was suffering at home was to them.

Sasha looked absolutely pissed, “Why? Why would a father do that to his own kid?”

Daryl knew why he did it this time. Normally he was asking the same question, but this time he knew the answer to it. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell them. It would mean coming clean about everything he’d been hiding from them since he and Sasha first met.

“Some people ain’t meant to be parents, Sasha,” her mother responded.

Now that was a true statement, his father should’ve never been able to have children.

“I know why he did it,” he spoke up softly after making a split decision.

He couldn’t live like this anymore. Hiding what was going on as if pretending it wasn’t happening was going to make it disappear. This is real, it happened. He’d been impregnated by his father and then suffered a miscarriage at his hands.

“At least, I know why he did it this time,” he elaborated.

Sasha looked like she both wanted to and didn’t want to know the reason. She knew it was bad if it was the thing that finally drove him away.

“I’m... I _was_...” he swallowed hard as remembered it was past tense.

His throat was closing up, making it hard for him to speak.

“He found out I was pregnant,” he choked out, ashamed by the revelation.

The two women gasped and sat there in complete and utter shock. Tiana has thought he was going to say something about his father hating him for having black friends since it was no secret his father was extremely racist. Daryl being pregnant was not an answer she would’ve thought of in her wildest dreams. Sasha registered the past tense in his revelation quicker than her mother did.

“Wait,” she said breaking the silence, “What do you mean by ' _was pregnant_?'”

Daryl bit his lip, unable to respond. Sasha covered her mouth and nose with her hands as tears sprung into her eyes. Her mother did the same thing when it all clicked in both their heads. Daryl’s father somehow found out he was pregnant and beat him, forcing him to lose the child. That’s why his stomach was bruised so bad.

“Daryl, I’ve never seen you having out with anyone other than me. Who was the baby’s father and does he know about this?” Sasha asked reaching out to cover his hand lying on the table with her own.

Daryl wanted to run away from this situation and die. He didn’t want them to know how used and disgusting he is for not running away from his father a long time ago.

“The father was...,” he choked on his words and had to pause.

The two women sat there quietly waiting for him to continue.

“The father of the baby was...,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “my father.”

Nothing happened for a moment and then Sasha shot up from her seat.

“That son of a bitch!” she screamed angrily, “I’m going to kill him.”

Daryl jumped at her tone, flashing back to his father readying to beat him, and fell out of his chair. Sasha got up and came after him which only made it worse. He immediately began backing away from her as quickly as possible. He stopped when his back hit a wall and he cowered against it.

“No!” he cried throwing his hands up to shield his head.

He startled and flinched hard when he felt a hand touch his arm. But it was a gentle touch, not one of violence like he’d expected. He opened his eyes and looked up. Sasha was crouched down beside him, crying.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just so angry and disgusted with your father. I’ll never understand how he could be so depraved as to do this to you.”

She sat down next to him and pulled him against her side. She wrapped one arm around his back tucking him tight against her body.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” she asked him rubbing her hand gently up and down his arm.

He nodded against her.

“Neither of us will ever hurt you,” came Tiana’s voice from in front of him as she joined them on the floor.

“He said he does it to remind me that I’m a girl. I let it slip that I didn’t want to be a girl about a year and a half ago. That was the first time he raped me.”

Sasha tensed slightly beside him, “First time?”

Daryl nodded again, “Yeah, it’s become a regular thing.”

“Why didn’t you run? We would have welcomed you with open arms,” Tiana wanted to know.

“I hadn’t met either of you yet when it started. Also, he told me he’d kill me and whoever I told if I ever did tell anyone,” he explained.

None of them really knew how to proceed from here. A miscarriage at the hands of his father was what had finally driven him out of his house. None of them were versed in medicine or psychology. Tiana is a hairdresser and Sasha is studying dance and performing arts at the nearby college.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered letting his tears fall freely for the first time that day.

“For what?” Tiana asked.

“For keeping it secret. I was so scared he’d find out I told and kill you both. I couldn’t bare the idea of that happening,” he said through his tears and harsh breaths.

“It’s okay,” Sasha comforted him, “You’re here now and he’s never going to lay a finger on you ever again.”

They all sat there quietly until Daryl’s sobs started to cease.

“Um... Tiana?” Daryl asked hesitantly.

“Yes?” she was ready to do whatever he needed her to do.

“Do you think you could give me that haircut now? Every time I look at it I’m reminded of how he used it to...” he paused, “control me.”

“Of course,” she smiled at him, “Let me go get my things. While I do that, Sasha would you please move his stuff into the spare bedroom and prep it?”

“Sure thing,” Sasha replied standing up.

“I’ll help you,” Daryl immediately spoke up.

“I’m good,” Sasha stopped him, “There isn’t that much and you’ve been through enough these past few days.”

It didn’t take long for Tiana to setup the chair and get all her tools out. He climbed into her chair and let her cover him with a towel. His hair right now hung about seven inches below his shoulders. His father liked his long hair, refusing to let him cut it for years. Daryl hated his hair, but he’d been too frightened of his father’s reaction to go through with cutting it all off. Now that he could, he wanted a more masculine look to match his gender identity. He also didn’t want anyone to be able to grab it and use it to control him ever again.

“What style you going for?” Tiana asked him.

“I don’t know exactly. I know I want something short, something more masculine. I’m done pretending to be someone I’m not now that I’m away from my father,” he said.

She nodded, “I’m going to pull your hair back into a ponytail to cut it off, okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

He practically cried tears of joy when he felt her cut off his long hair. She showed it to him and part of him couldn’t believe this was finally happening. He’d wanted it for so long. He waited patiently as she worked to turn his long feminine hair into a more masculine hairstyle.

When she was finished, she handed him a mirror to see the final product. His hair was still a bit shaggy, but it suited his face. It was definitely a male haircut and he loved it. He stood up from the chair and hugged her tight, something he rarely did.

“I’m glad you like it, now go get dressed while I clean up,” she said shooing him away before he could offer to help.

He made his way to the spare bedroom at the back of the house to see Sasha putting on fresh sheets. It was a nice room, bigger than the one he had back home. It was painted a soft cream color and had multiple landscape paintings hanging on the walls. The carpet was white and complimented the cream walls nicely.

There was a queen bed in the center of the room against the back wall and on either side was a small nightstand and a lamp. There was a large chest of drawers adjacent to the bed up against a different wall. There was also a dresser with a mirror attached on the wall opposite the chest of drawers. The curtains were a light forest green color as was the bedspread. Other than that, the room was pretty bare which was normal for a guest bedroom.

“Wow,” Sasha gasped out of joy and surprise upon seeing his new look, “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” Daryl blushed unused to compliments.

“I think everything is in order, feel free to make yourself at home because this is your home now.”

He let her kiss his cheek briefly on her way out. It was something she’d started to do a long time ago as a substitute for a hug since they made him uncomfortable. They were siblings in bond since they’re both gay. She likes women and he likes men, so no possibility of a romance ever starting up between them.

He walked over to his duffle bag and started pulling out some clothes for him to wear. He changed his pad out, throwing the bloody one away in the small trash can by the door. He pulled on some loose jeans and black socks. He put on his binding bra next, breathing hard through his nose as it pressed up against some of the bruising. He was going to try to wear it though, but if it hurt too much he was going to have to take it off. Finally, he pulled on his last clean shirt.

He cautiously walked over to the mirror to see himself with this new haircut. His breath caught in his throat as he saw himself in the mirror. He looked more masculine than he ever had before. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t let himself. His eyes were already dry, red and sore from yesterday and today. He left the room in a relatively good mood. He still hated that he had breasts, but at least his hair finally matched who he is inside. He walked out into the living room and was met with smiles as he debuted his new look.

“There’s my boy,” Tiana said joyously clasping her hands together.

Daryl smiled wide at her comment. It finally felt true, the haircut has done wonders for him. He knew he still had a long road ahead of him in his transition journey, but in this one moment, for just a couple of minutes, he felt okay.


	4. Hospital Visit

After dinner, Tiana went into her bedroom and called the police. She told them exactly what Daryl had told them and what she’d seen. The cops recognized the name Will Dixon from the many nights he’s spent in the drunk tank over the years, but they didn’t believe he’d rape his own daughter. They asked if she had proof, so she told them about the severe bruising on his stomach.

“Well ma’am, that’s not exactly evidence of rape, just physical abuse,” the officer said, obviously bored with the conversation.

Tiana groaned in frustration, “What more do you need?”

“You claim she’s had a miscarriage, yes?”

“Claim? He-she’s got all the signs of being post miscarriage. The most obvious one is the blood.”

“You sure she’s not just on her period and using it to get attention?” the man drawled.

Tiana was just about ready to reach through the phone and strangle this misogynistic asshole. If she was standing right in front of him she’s punch his lights out.

“I’m sure. I’ve had a miscarriage myself, I know what she’s going through very well. Besides, her period isn’t due again for another two weeks.”

“Well, I’ll still need proof. Take her to the local hospital and get one of the doctors to confirm it. We’ll take the girl’s testimony here at the station if it’s true.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said just barely restraining her anger.

She didn’t need racism to be thrown into the mix by him accusing her of being a “typical hysterical, loud mouthed black woman.” She slammed the receiver down and took a moment to calm herself. She needed to talk to Daryl.

* * *

“Daryl, I know you’re not going to like it, but we need to take you to the hospital,” Tiana said approaching the topic carefully.

Daryl looked up at her from where he was sitting on the couch reading. Sasha was asleep next to him, an open book on her lap. Tiana wanted to talk to Daryl about this when Sasha wasn’t there not wanting to make her worry.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you’ve just had a miscarriage. A doctor needs to make sure you’re okay. Sometimes things go wrong and you can get hurt,” she explained.

“I feel fine,” he was immediately defensive.

He didn’t want anyone poking around down there.

“I know, I did too.”

That caught his attention.  _ Had she had a miscarriage before or after having Sasha? _

“I was pregnant before Sasha. She was supposed to have an older brother, Tyreese, but I lost the baby at 19 weeks.”

“What happened?”

“There was an abnormality with my uterus that affect my carrying of him. I had to be very careful when I was pregnant with Sasha because of it. It makes me more likely to miscarry.”

“I didn’t miscarry because of a medical condition,” he whispered, “my father  _ literally _ beat it out of me.  Normally that’s just an expression.”

Tiana smiled sadly, “I know, which is all the more reason to go. Both to check on your wellbeing and before the evidence of it is gone.”

Daryl blinked in confusion, “evidence?”

Tiana shifted uncomfortably, “You know I see you as my own child, right?”

“Yeah...”

“Which comes with a certain feeling of a maternal need to protect you.”

“What are you saying?” he was scared of what she was going to say to him.

“I called the police and reported what your father did to you,” she revealed.

“What!?!” he was shocked and horrified, “Now everybody’s going to know!”

He dropped the book and curled himself into a protective ball.

“Nobody has to know...”

“Everyone will know. This is a small town. If Will Dixon is arrested for child abuse and child molestation, everyone’s gonna know it was me he was having sex with,” he whimpered from behind his barricade of limbs.

“Daryl, I had to tell them. A man like that is a danger to everyone. If he was using you to get his fix and now you’re gone, who knows who he’ll go after next. He needs to be put behind bars, hopefully for the rest of his life.”

Daryl didn’t say anything, he just hugged himself tighter.

“She’s right, Daryl,” came Sasha’s groggy voice from beside him, “You need to press charges.”

“They’ll want me to testify and I don’t think I could handle that in front of a bunch of strangers. Plus, he promised me he’d kill me and whoever I told if I ever told anyone about what he did to me. I can’t let him kill you guys.”

“Daryl,” Tiana tried again, “If we can prove he did this to you with the help of the hospital and you testify to the police, unless he pleads not guilty, you won’t have to do that.”

Daryl let hims arms fall back down by his sides as he looked up at her, “You promise I won’t?”

She looked back at him with a serious gaze, “I can’t promise you won’t have to testify, but I can promise that I’ll be there with you every step of the way. What do ya say?”

Daryl nodded, “Sasha needs to be there too.”

“Of course I’ll be there,” Sasha assured him, “You’re my brother.”

She got up from her side of the couch and pulled him against her side. He took the invitation and laid his head against her shoulder.

“Okay,” he relented, “I’ll go.”

Tiana sighed in relief. When she had miscarried Tyreese, she’d gotten a severe infection. She wanted to make sure Daryl didn’t get one too.

* * *

The next day, Daryl shifted uncomfortably on the white paper he was sitting on. The nurse had asked him to change out of his clothes and into one of the gown things. So now he was sitting naked, except for his underwear--since he was bleeding from the miscarriage--and his binding bra, in a flimsy gown waiting for some doctor he’s never met before to come look at his vagina. He crossed his legs tightly, the whole situation making him wish he hadn’t agreed to come.

Tiana was standing next to him, holding his hand. She understood why this was making him uncomfortable. She’d asked for him to be seen by the female doctor. The nurses had tried to explain that she’d be a while and all Tiana had said was “we’ll wait.”

She wasn’t sure how Daryl would react to another man looking at that part of him. She figured if it was a woman it would lower the chances of him getting a flashback and freaking out. Sasha had been told she needed to wait outside since she wasn’t technically related to him. The only reason they’d let Tiana into the room was because Daryl had started hyperventilating when they tried to make her leave.

The door opened with a loud squeak and in came who Tiana assumed was the female doctor, Dr. Peletier.

“Good afternoon, Darla, how are you feeling?” she asked setting her clipboard down on the counter of the sink.

Daryl didn’t answer as he watched the woman washed her hands. His heart rate increasing each time she got closer to being ready to examine him.

“My chart says you’ve suffered a miscarriage?” she prompted.

Daryl nodded, remaining silent.

“Do you know why you miscarried and how far along you were?”

Daryl cleared his throat and whispered, “I don’t know how far along I was, but I do know why I miscarried.”

“Yes?”

“My father beat me and made me lose the child.”

Dr. Peletier froze when he said that, “Can you show me?”

Daryl swallowed thickly before slowly moving the gown to the side to reveal his stomach while still hiding his most intimate area. The doctor looked at the bruising in horror.

“Oh my god,” she whispered leaning forward slightly, “does it still hurt?”

“Only when I lay on my front.”

“Well, that is the area to hit to get someone to miscarry,” she said examining the bruising, “How painful was the miscarriage.”

“It’s honestly hard for me to remember. I was already in a lot of pain before the miscarriage. I remember the pain forcing me to my knees, but that’s it.”

“So it wasn’t an easy miscarriage,” she mumbled mainly to herself, “which gives you a higher chance of having suffered an incomplete miscarriage.”

“What’s that mean?” Daryl asked turning her attention back to him.

“Darla, I need to look at your vagina now, okay?” she wanted him to know exactly what she was doing.

Daryl was terrified, but he nodded.

Dr. Peletier slowly lifted up the bottom of his gown only to see that he was squeezing his thighs together.

“Darla, I need you to open your legs for me...”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Daryl’s breathing increased and became ragged. He was shaking uncontrollably and had his eyes squeezed shut in fear. Confused, Dr. Peletier turned to look at Mrs. Williams, the woman who’s brought him in though obviously not his biological mother. Mrs. Williams was already moving up and out of her seat and over to Daryl. She took his arms into her hands to stabilize him and prevent him from collapsing.

“Daryl,” she spoke calmly, “Daryl, your father isn’t here. You’re safe.”

He didn’t seems to recognize her voice and just whimpered as a response.

Mrs. Williams lowered her face to his ear and whispered, “Daryl, it’s Tiana. You’re safe here with me. Nobody is going to hurt you here. We just want to help.”

The more Mrs. Williams spoke to him, the more he calmed down. Dr. Peletier had stepped back and lowered Daryl’s gown at this point as she watched the situation unfold. She, however, was extremely confused by what was going on.

For one, this was definitely a sign that the pregnancy and sexual contact needed to get pregnant may not have been consensual. This response is a common reaction of someone who was raped, often repeatedly, by someone. Second, Mrs. Williams had said father which might imply that Darla’s father was sexually abusing her and had been the one to get her pregnant. Lastly, Mrs. Williams wasn’t calling Darla by her name, but by the more masculine name Daryl.

Dr. Peletier waited for Daryl to calm down a bit before speaking.

“Mrs. Williams,” she asked, “could you please join me in the hallway for a second?”

Daryl shook his head and reached out to keep Tiana from leaving.

“Whatever you need to ask, you can ask in front of him. I won’t leave him,” she responded taking Daryl’s hand and sitting down on the table next to him.

Dr. Peletier sighed, “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes,” Daryl spoke up, his voice ragged from his episode.

“Having seen that, I do have a few questions. Questions that might be hard for you to answer,” Dr. Peletier started, “The first question I have is, why are you calling her Daryl instead of by her name Darla?”

Mrs. Williams looked taken aback by the question, almost as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to respond despite knowing the answer.

“Tell her,” Daryl whispered from where he was leaning against Tiana, seeking comfort from her.

“Are you sure?” Tian wanted to make sure he was okay with this.   
“Yeah.”

Tiana nodded and kissed Daryl’s forehead before turning back to Dr. Peletier.

“I called him by the name Daryl because that’s his name,” she spoke firmly.

Sensing Mrs. Williams’ seriousness about this topic, Dr. Peletier tried to clarify what she was saying.

“His?” Dr. Peletier asked cautiously.

“Yes, Daryl is transgender. Born in a female body, but is actually male,” Mrs. Williams clarified.

“So,” Dr. Peletier turned her attention to the teen, “would you prefer if I called you Daryl instead?”

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, “I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t refer to me as she either since I’m a he.”

Dr. Peletier leaned back against the sink to process what she was hearing. She has a patient who’s just suffered a violent miscarriage, but is male. That combination of words were hard for her to process. She’d heard about people like this, but had never encountered one herself. The girl, no boy, has obviously already begun the process. He’s cut his hair into a more masculine style and she’s noticed the binding bra when he’d showed her the bruising. She furrowed her brows in thought as she tried to remember what she’d learned about the transition process. It wasn’t taught in medical school, but she’d gone to some pro-LGBT conferences for doctors out of curiosity a few years back and learned about the transition process.

Taking a deep breathe, she turned back to her patient. Both Mrs. Williams and Darla, no Daryl, looked ready to bolt should she disagree with Daryl’s decision.

“Are you doing any hormone therapy yet?” she asked instead of beating around the bush with the situation.

The two were shocked not only by the doctor’s acceptance, but her immediate response to ask about going further with his transition process.

“No,” Daryl replied, “I’ve never been to a doctor besides my school’s nurse before.”

“Okay,” Dr. Peletier said as she processed the new information, “I can see about getting you on testosterone to help with your transition. Of course you’ll need a parent’s signature before I can put you on it since you’re a minor.”

Mrs. Williams immediately spoke up, “What about me? I’d be willing to pay for it.”

“Tiana,” Daryl whispered, “I can’t let you do that. I swore to myself I’d never let myself become a financial burden...”   
“You will never be a burden to me, Daryl. I consider you my own son.”

Dr. Peletier felt her stomach drop, “So you don’t have legal custody of him?”

“No,” Mrs. Williams, “The only reason they let me in here is because Daryl started freaking out when they tried to get me to leave.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give him the treatment until a legal guardian of his signs off on it since it’s not a life or death situation,” Dr. Peletier told them.   
“My father will never agree to it and I don’t have a mother,” Daryl said, feeling his hope of transitioning before he was an adult slipping away.

Mrs. Williams seemed to transition into a protective, maternal-like presence, “If I can get legal custody of him, can I sign off on the treatment?”

“Yes,” Dr. Peletier confirmed.

“Can you give me proof that he suffered a miscarriage?”

“Yes,” the doctor said confused.

“I need it,” she explained, “I’m going to the police to turn in Daryl’s father for child physical and sexual abuse, but they want proof that Daryl suffered a miscarriage from a doctor. I’m hoping they’ll let me adopt him once Will Dixon is behind bars.”   
Daryl gasped at her words, “You want to take me in?”

“Of course I do, Daryl. I love you,” Tiana whispered kissing his forehead again.   
Daryl snuggled into her side even more, a soft smile on his lips, “I love you, too.”

“Would you be willing to become Daryl’s primary care doctor? I’m not sure how many other doctors would be okay with and willing to help Daryl with his transition,” Mrs. Williams asked Dr. Peletier.

“Of course,” Dr. Peletier agreed, “Now let’s get that proof.”

This time Daryl let her spread his legs to look at his vagina. He was still terrified, but Tiana holding him was helping a lot. He knew Tiana would never let anything happen to him as long as she was there to stop it. Dr. Peletier wrote down some notes on her clipboard and handed Mrs. Williams a copy of her findings.

“Everything looks to be passing smoothly,” the doctor said, “but come back and see me if the bleeding hasn’t stopped after the next two or three days.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Williams said shaking Dr. Peletier’s hand after taking the proof she needed to lock Will Dixon up for good.   
  



	5. Arrested Development

After leaving the hospital, Tiana drove them all over to the police station to give the officers the proof given to them by Dr. Peletier. She drove into the parking lot and parked. She could practically feel the tension in the car. All of them were nervous about how this was going to go over. Two black women and a man, who the cops will treat as a woman because of his vagina, going after a straight white man for rape and abuse charges didn’t really sound like a smart idea in the middle of nowhere Georgia. Tiana took a deep breathe and exited the car. It was of utmost for all of them to keep their cool in front of the likely misogynistic, and quite possibly racist, ocfficers they were sure to meet.

Inside there were three white, male officers hanging around the room talking and drinking coffee. The only woman in sight was the woman sitting at the reception desk.  
“Excuse me,” Tiana said approaching the desk, “I’m here to follow up on a police report I tried to file over the phone.”

“Are you Mrs. Williams?” the woman asked in bored tone.

“Yes, I am. I have the proof the officer I was talking to wanted,” she said keeping her annoyance neatly underwraps.

“Ah yes, that officer went home for the weekend already, so if you want to file a report you’ll have to start all over again with a different officer.”

“Whatever it takes,” Tiana spoke through a fake smile, “Which one should I talk to.”

“Eh, go talk to Detective Ford over there. He’s the one with red hair,” she said before turning back to her computer.

Tiana moved away from the desk and made her way over to Detective Ford who was minding his own business against the wall and drinking some coffee.

“Excuse me. Detective Ford?” she said approaching the man cautiously.

“Yeah, ma’am?” he said looking up at her, “How can I help you?”

“The secretary said you could help me file a report?” she asked him.

“Of course,” he responded, “what’s going on?”

“It’s a rather private matter,” she added.

“Let’s go back to one of the interrogation rooms just to get out of earshot of the others,” he said pushing off from the wall.

Tiana motioned for Daryl and Sasha to follow them as she began walking behind Detective Ford. Daryl pressed close to Sasha as they all entered the room.

“I promise y’all aren’t in trouble. This is just to keep those nosy assholes out there from listening in,” Ford assured the two teens upon seeing their fear.

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how this guy was going to treat them.

“I’ll be right back with two more chairs,” he told them and then disappeared from the room.

With him gone for the moment, Tiana turned to the teens.

“Let me do the talking,” she told them, “Don’t speak unless he directly asks you a question, understood?”

The two nodded. They just held each other’s hands and stayed quiet. It wasn’t long before Detective Ford returned carrying two extra chairs and placed them down in front of the teens. They quickly sat down so that they could begin.

“So,” Detective Ford said sitting down across from them and taking out a notebook, “What are you three ladies here to report?”

“We’re here to press charges of child physical and sexual abuse on Will Dixon,” Tiana spoke firmly.

“Whoa, now that’s a serious charge there ma’am. You got any proof?” the detective asked.

“Yes,” she turned to Daryl.

“Show him,” she said softly.

“Daryl hesitantly lifter up his shirt to reveal the dark bruising on his stomach. He then turned around to show the detective the scarring across his back. Tiana and Sasha both gasped when he did that. Neither of them had ever seen him without a shirt and hadn’t known about those marks.

“Well, that proves that physical abuse part as long as you agree to testify against him and let me take some pictures of all that for the file,” detective Ford said.

Daryl sat back down and lowered his shirt, “Do I have to do it in front of a bunch of people?”

“Nope, just me. I’ll record you taking on this tape recorder here so that the judge can listen to your account.”

Daryl nodded in agreement.

“That’s good,” detective Ford continued, “Now about the sexual abuse...”

“He’s been raping me since I was thirteen.”

Detective Ford blinked as he took in what the teen was saying.

“Do you mind if I start recording this conversation to use as evidence? I don’t want to make you talk about it more times than you have to,” he explained.

“Sure,” Tiana consented.

Detective Ford turned on the machine and it clicked as it began recording.

“Would you mind repeating that last sentence...?”

Daryl debated for a few seconds in his head about whether he should come out and use his chosen name or his dead name. In the end he decided to use his dea name just to make things go smoother. He also didn’t want to increase the likelihood of this man dismissing the case simply because he doesn’t agree with transgender people. It was already three “women” filing a case against a man, they’re case was enough of a longshot already.

“Darla,” Daryl told him.

“Okay, Darla, please repeat that last statement and include the name of who did it in your statement. Also, feel free to add anything else you think I should know for the case,” detective Ford said getting ready to write as well.

“My father, Will Dixon, has been raping me since I was thirteen years old. I’m fifteen years old now. This past Saturday, I found out I was pregnant with my father’s child. I still have the pregnancy tests back at Mrs. William’s house.”

“Is that where you’re staying right now?”

“Yes, I ran away from home Saturday night.”

“Why?”

“I’d just found out I was pregnant with an child by my father raping me. I was scared of what he might do if he found out I was pregnant, so I tried to run. He caught me before I could escape found out I was pregnant when one of the tests I’d taken earlier that day at the library fell out of my bag. When he grabbed me I told him it was his and in response he beat me so bad I miscarried on our back porch. I’d be willing to bet the dried blood is still there. He’s too lazy to clean it up himself.”

“Do you have proof of this miscarriage?” detective Ford asked, “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I do. There are just other people in this precint who won’t believe you unless you have proof.”

“I do,” Tiana cut in, “We came right after visiting the hospital to check to make sure she was alright. Dr. Peletier gave me this.”

Tiana held out the form to the detective who took it so he could get a better look at it. The form detailed Dr. Peletier examination of Darla. It read:

_Obvious signs of being post miscarriage, miscarriage cause by severe physical trauma inflicted by someone kicking Darla Dixon in the stomach, PTSD from being raped by her father repeatedly. She had a strong flashback when I tried to assess any damage done to her body by the miscarriage._

Detective Ford put it inside the folder lying next to the recorder.  
“That’s all I need evidence wise to put him away. I just need to ask all of you a few more questions,” the detective continued, “Daryl, do you have any living relatives besides your father?”

“Yes, my brother Merle Dixon.”

“Is he over 18?”

“Yes, he should be 20 by now.”

“Could he take you in?”

“No, he left to join the army when he was 18. I haven’t seen him since. I’d like to live with Tiana and Sasha.”

“Mrs. Williams, do you consent to Darla living with you until she turns 18?”

“Yes, she’s like a daughter to me. I’ve already helped her set up her room and unpack her things,” Tiana told him.

“Good, I’ll see about getting you an official form of custody so that you can foster her legally.”

“Thank you, detective,” Tiana was grateful she didn’t have to fight for custody.

“Sasha, can you confirm anything that Darla has told us about how her father has treated her?” detective Ford addressed Sasha for the first time.

“Yes, sir,” she began, “Darla and I have been friends since she was 13.”

“Did you know her the first time the rape occured?”

“No, I met her a few months later at the library. She was reading a book I loved and asked her about it. We’ve been great friends ever since.”

“Did Darla ever tell you about the abuse she was suffering at home?” he asked scribbling away on his notepad.

“No, but I did suspect something was going on. I didn’t suspect rape, but it’s not exactly a secret around here that Will Dixon is not a kind man. My mother and I offered a few times for her to move in with us, but Darla always refused. She said she didn’t want to be a financial burden on our family. It didn’t matter what we tried to tell her, she always said no. At least until Saturday.”

“Thank you,” detective Ford said as he finished writing on his notepad.

“What happens now?” Tiana asked him.

“Well, I’m going to go get an arrest warrant from my chief so that I can send some of our uniformed officers to go arrest Mr. Dixon. I’m also going to get a search warrant for his house so we can look for any further evidence. While that’s happening I’m going to work on getting Darla released into your custody without having to get Mr. Dixon’s signature of approval since I’m almost certain he won’t sign.”

Tiana nodded her understanding.

“What exactly are the charges we’ll be filing against him and what are the penalties?” Tiana asked.

“Well, we seem to have quiet a list going here. I’ll just list all of them off. Child abuse, five to twenty years in prison; child molestation, five to 25 years in prison; intentional feticide, life in prison. And those are just the ones I could come up with off the top of my head. I’m sure we’ll be able to add a few more to the list once we search the house.”

Daryl was frozen in shock as detective Ford read off the charges list. His father was going to go away for the rest of his life. He couldn’t decide between crying tears of joy or jumping up and screaming “YES!” His body decided for him as he began to cry.

“Daryl?” Sasha pulled him close, “Are you okay?”

He nodded against her shoulder.

“I’m free,” he whispered.

“Y’all okay to stay in here?” he asked, “I’m going to turn the recording device off to and have the tape processed.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine in here,” Tiana assured him.

Detective Ford smiled kindly at them before taking the tape out of the recording device and exiting the room.

* * *

Time passed slowly for the three of them in the interrogation room. Every once in a while someone would come in and asked them if they needed anything. So far all they’d asked for is some water and to use the bathroom. They were all anxiously awaiting the arrest of Will Dixon. At some point a female uniformed officer came in and took pictures of the scars on Daryl’s back and the bruising on his torso. They were all more than ready for this whole ordeal to be over.

Eventually Detective Ford came back into the room with a stack of papers. He divided the stack into two separate stacks and placed them in front of Tiana on the table.

“This stack is to foster Darla until she’s 18,” detective Ford said pointing to the one of the right and then to the one on the left, “And this stack is to foster-to-adopt her. One means you have no legal obligation to care for her after she turns 18, the other basically turns you into her new mother. She’ll be able to stay on your insurance until she’s 26, the whole nine yards.”

“Thanks for the options, but I’ve already decided on the foster-to-adopt route,” Tiana explained to him, “I already consider her to be my own.”

“Of course,” he said, “Just fill out those paper for me and I’ll give you a temporary form of custody until the judge officially approves your request.”

He took the other stack with him and left. Tiana immediately got to work filling out the forms, asking Daryl a question every once and awhile. She apologized for having to fill it out using his dead name, but he told her not to worry about it. When she was finished, she had Daryl sign the agreement form to becoming her daughter. He flinched a bit as he read the “daughter” part, but signed it anyway. He didn’t want to complicate the process by throwing his transgender identity into the mix.

They had only just finished the forms when a loud yell coming from the main lobby of the precinct caught their attention.

“Let me go!” thundered Will Dixon as two cops dragged him into the precinct, “I’ve got rights!”

“I don’t give a monkey’s left nut what your rights are right now you disgusting pedophilic son of a dick,” Detective Ford yelled back at him.

“Put the bastard in interrogation room 2,” Detective Ford told the uniformed officers, “And make sure you cuff both of his hands to the table. I don’t want the asshole taking a swing at me when I go in there.”

“Yes, sir,” the officers said as the continued to drag the enraged Dixon towards the back of the precinct.

“Where is that whore?” he screamed, “I’m gonna kill her for this.”

Daryl whimpered and pulled Sasha closer to him so that he could hide his face against her chest. Daryl peaked up as his father’s voice kept getting closer. As the cops walked him past them, he could see the burning hatred in his father’s eyes. He immediately ducked his head again. He hoped he’d never have to look at that man again for as long as he lived. They could still hear Will screaming and carrying on as they placed him in the interrogation room behind theirs.

“Darla! I’m going to kill you, bitch. You hear me? I’m going fucking ring your neck once I get out of here,” he yelled as the two cops holding him shoved into the seat and cuffed his wrists to the bar on the table.

The two officers left as Detective Ford entered holding a case file. The man said nothing as he sat down opposite Will, seemingly ignoring everything he was saying.

“Can you hear me, officer?” Will hissed at him, slamming his hand down on the table.

“Yeah, but right now I’m choosing to ignore you,” Detective Ford replied calmly.

He reached over and turned on the recording device on the table so that he could use anything the bastard said against him in court. Will stopped yelling and carrying on as soon as the recording started, making Detective Ford smirk.

“So, by law I have to list all the charges put against you before I can ask you to sign a confession. The charges you have against you are as follows: child abuse, child molestation, child endangerment, child abandonment, intentional feticide, possession of firearms without a license, illegal possession of unregistered firearms, and hunting without a license. Those last two are second offenses for you which means jail time on both.”

Will sat there silently, breathing heavily through his nose, his face red with anger.

“You’ve got no proof,” Will hissed.

“Actually, we’ve got a lot of proof. Darla has testified against you on record. We have pictures of the abuse you’ve inflicted on her body. Those backup the child abuse charge. We have a signed form from a reputable doctor confirming she suffered a trauma induced miscarriage within the last two days. We also have confirmed that the dried blood on your back porch is Darla’s. Those backup the feticide charge. We dug into Darla’s medical history only to find out she doesn’t have one outside her school’s nursing office. That proves the child abandonment charge. We have pictures from inside your house of firearms and weapon lying haphazardly around your house. That proves the child endangerment charge.”

With each piece of evidence presented against him, Will grew angrier. His face was redder than a ripe tomato and if looks could kill the entire precinct would be up in flames right now.

“When we looked closer at those guns and then matched them against our registry, we noticed more than half of them are not registered,” Detective Ford continued, “After discovering that we delved even deeper into your gun history and it turns out, your firearm license expired fifteen years ago. That proves the possession of firearms without a license charge. Finally, we found freshly killed animals on your back porch next to Darla’s blood with bullets from your guns still lodged in their heads. That proves the hunting without a license charge.”

After he was done listing all of that, he looked up from the folder and grinned at Will, “You have two options here. Option A is you confess and go to jail. Option B is you plead not guilty to all these charges and we convict you in a court of law with a jury and a judge, the whole thing. Option A is quick, quiet and easy. Option B is often long, hard, and cases like this one can become very public, very quickly. You got a shit storm behind door A and a storm of shit behind door B, take your pick Will.”

The man just sat there unmoving, silently glaring at him.

“I’ll give you some time to think about it,” Detective Ford told him as he stood up to leave, “Either way, you’re going away for life for what you’ve done.”

After placing the confession slip down in front of Will, Detective Ford left and let the door slam shut and lock behind him. He desperately hoped that Will would choose option A. Option B would be long and hard for all of them, especially Darla. Child abuse, especially when it involves sexual abuse, can become front page news very easily if word gets out to the press. He didn’t want Darla to have to go through all of that because of her father being an asshole. He was going to hold him in that interrogation room for as long as he was legally allowed to without pressing charges to try to get him to confess. Detective Ford told Mrs. Williams, Darla, and Sasha all about what could happen depending on what Will chose to do.

“If Will refuses to confess and the case goes to trial, I’ll do my best to keep it quiet, but I can’t promise anything. Child molestation cases as extensive and horrible as this one tend to catch the press’ attention very easily.”

Daryl swallowed hard as he processed what detective Ford was telling him. It was very possible that his dead name could be plastered across the front page of every major new outlet in America if his father didn’t choose to confess.


	6. Will Dixon

Detective Ford let Will stew in the interrogation room for a good two hours before going to check on him. He prayed that Will had signed the confession slip. If he hadn’t he was going to have to get creative on this one. So far, the man hadn’t asked for a lawyer and Ford was totally okay with waiting until he asked for one to call one in. The dumber decisions this guy made, the easier it would be to trap him. Nobody in the precinct was rushing to help this guy either.

Ford knew that some of the guys were dirty and would be giving him advice if he was only here for child endangerment, child abandonment, and maybe a mild case of child abuse--corporal punishment is still common around these parts--but child molestation and feticide? Those were two charges so horrible that if you did have a problem with them, you weren’t human. Meaning this Will Dixon guy isn’t human, he is a psychotic monster who deserves to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

Ford opened the door to see that the confession slip was still blank. He sighed in disappointment as he realized he was going to have to call in a lawyer to help them get this son of a bitch. He was more stubborn than Ford had given him credit for.

“I see you still haven’t decided to sign your confession,” Ford spoke entering the room.

“I’m not going to sign it,” Will hissed at him, “I’m not going to jail over some pathetic, lying whore.”

“She’s your daughter,” Ford said in a last ditch attempt to get him to confess on his own despite already knowing any and all humanity left in the guy was long gone.

“Don’t care.”

Ford nodded, “I think it’s time you had a chat with your lawyer. I’ll call them in. Need anything to eat or drink while you wait?”

“No,” Will snapped.

“Fine, just thought I’d ask. It’s still the law that I have to treat you like a human being even if I know you’re not one.”

Ford left the room again and got on the phone to the local law firm.

“Hey there Andrea, long time,” he said into the receiver.   
“Yes, too long,” the woman replied, “the kids keep asking me when their Uncle Abraham is going to come for a visit again.”

Ford laughed a bit, “I’m hoping to make it over this weekend as long as this case I’m working on doesn’t go to trial.”

“Oh, I see. This isn’t a personal call,” Andrea teased.

“I’m afraid not, I need the best lawyer you have, but make it someone with a strong moral compass. I need this guy to confess. If he doesn’t our town and the life of a little girl might become national news by Wednesday.”

“Seriously? What are the charges?” she asked already typing away on her computer.

“I’m warning you now, they’re pretty unpleasant.”

“I can handle it.”

“The charges are child abuse, child molestation, child endangerment, child abandonment, intentional feticide, illegal possession of firearms, possession of firearms without a license, and hunting without a license.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed into the receiver, “I think that’s the worst combination of charges you’ve ever given me.”

“I know, this guy is one horrible bastard. The whole point of giving him a lawyer is for the lawyer to convince him to sign the confession slip.”

“Smart play,” she mused as she began looking through the list of available lawyers.

“Oh, and make sure it’s a white guy too,” Ford added, “The guy ain’t just a pedophile. He’s racist and sexist as well. Hell, I’d bet my own dick that the guy’s homophobic, too.”

“I’ll bet,” she mumbled over the phone narrowing down her search to people the guy might listen to.

“I think I’ve got just the man for you,” Andrea announced, “granted, you’ll have to convince him to do it.”

“Who is it and where do I find him? I’ll go to his house, get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes,” Ford said firmly.

“You really care about this girl, huh?”

“She a good kid, I don’t want to see her life get anymore fucked up than it already is.”

“His name is Negan Morgan. He’s normally only does big budget cases, but he’s got a soft spot for kids. He’s also one of the few lawyers smart enough to get the bastard thrown in jail while pretending to defend him.”

“Thanks, you got his number?”

“Yeah, hold on one second,” she told him.

She gave him the number and he made a quick goodbye before hanging up. Ford quickly dialed the number and prayed the man would pick up and be in a generous mood. He tapped his foot against the desk he was sitting at impatiently as the phone made that annoying buzzing noise in his ear.

“Hello?” came a voice over the phone.

“Hello, I’m Detective Ford with the local police department. Am I speaking with Negan Morgan?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m him. What do you need?” Negan asked calmly.

“Andrea told me you’re just the man I’m looking for to help me with a case I’m working on. There’s not a lot of money in it, but I promise it’s for a good cause‍.” ‍‍‍

“She did mention I don’t do low budget cases, yes?”

“She did, but I’m hoping this won’t take that long and I could really use your expertise.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve got a particularly nasty case on my hands involving child abuse, child molestation, and intentional feticide.”

“Fuck, that’s awful. Got enough evidence to convict the bastard that did it?” Negan asked unsure still why this guy was calling him specifically.

“Yeah I do, but the guy won’t budge. He’s refusing to sign the confession slip and I was hoping that you could come in as his lawyer and convince him to sign the confession, plead guilty.”

“Why are you going to all this trouble to get this man to confess when you know you still have the conviction in the bag even if he pleads not guilty?” Negan questioned him.

“You and I both know that a case involving these types of charges can get very public, very fast. I’m just trying to save his daughter, the victim in this case, the pain and humiliation of having her dirty laundry aired out in front of the whole damned world.”

There was silence on the phone as Negan thought about his options. If he couldn’t get the man to confess, this could turn into a very public, long, drawn out case which meant he could lose out on some higher paying jobs. Plus, his reputation would be on the line for defending the disgusting bastard. But the premise of the case was pulling on his heart strings, begging him to accept. He didn’t want to see this girl’s life paraded around for the whole world to see, especially not with charges like feticide and child molestation in the mix.

“I’ll do it. Don’t worry about the payment, I’ll take what the government normally pays for people who can’t afford a lawyer. I’m doing this for the girl, not for anyone else,” Negan explained.

“You sure are a damn saint, Negan,” Ford grinned over the phone.

“The man will only have to worry about paying me if he pleads not guilty and makes us go to court. I’ll take the money directly from whatever estate he has. Also, if it does go to court, have the girl hire Morgan Jones as her lawyer. He’s great and he’ll do the case for damn near nothing if he believes in the cause enough.”

“Thank you so much for you help. How soon can you get here?” Ford asked making a note of the lawyer’s name to give to Mrs. Williams.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” Negan told him.

The two said goodbye and hung up. Ford grinned and laughed to himself a bit. Will Dixon was going down.

* * *

True to his word, Negan showed up an hour later for the briefing on the case. Ford took him back to his desk to discuss the charges and how much time Will was looking at being behind bars without cutting a deal and signing that confession. They worked together to construct the best deal possible that they thought Will might take while still trying to get the most amount of years behind bars as they could.

“Okay,” Negan said after reviewing the charges and penalties, “If the judge gives him the maximum sentence on all of these charges, he’s looking at 70 years in prison plus a life sentence and a fine of $131,000.”

“Holy shit,” Ford breathed, “Is that really what the math says?”

“Yeah,” Negan confirmed.

“The man is 45 years old,” Ford groaned, “The first 70 years would do him in on their own and I know based off his employment record that he for sure doesn’t have $131,000 hidden somewhere either. He’s been living off welfare and unemployment pay for the past three years. He’s never going to confess if that’s what he’s looking at. A man like him will do anything to bring everyone else around him down with him if he knows he’s going down anyway.”

“If I tell him that’s that he’s looking at if he lets it go to trail and then offer a better deal if he confesses, we might be able to bring this one in.”

“What kind of deal?” Ford asked cautiously, “A man like him doesn’t deserve any deal at all.”

“What about a deal of 50 years to life with the possibility of parole when he’s 85 with a fine of $85,000? I thought it would be mildly poetic to charge him the same amount of money as the age he’ll be when he’s finally up for parole,” Negan offered.

“I really don’t want the bastard getting out ever,” Ford grumbled not liking the possibility of parole clause.

“I doubt he’ll make it to age 85,” Negan mumbled just loud enough for Ford to hear him.

“What?” Ford asked, “How can you be so sure of that?”

“I’m sure you know what happens to pedophiles in prison,” Negan whispered lowly, “Most of them don’t make it past the first five years—some of them not even the first five days—of being in there before somebody murders them. Some survive longer if they know how to keep their mouth shut, but I wouldn’t take Will for being one of those people.”

Ford leaned forward in his chair, “So you’re telling me it doesn’t really matter how many years we give this guy since he’s probably going to end up on the wrong end of shive fairly quickly anyway.”

“Basically,” Negan confirmed, “It’s no secret that even murderers see themselves as better than pedophiles in the prison hierarchy. It’s been reported before the sometimes killing a pedophile in jail can gain the killer more respect from his inmates and help him rise through the prison’s hierarchical ranks.”

“So your plan is to give him a great deal and then wait for the other prisoners to take care of the life sentence bit?”

Negan nodded.

Ford grinned, “ That, my friend, is some damn fine genuine outside-the-box thinking .”

Negan and Ford finished hashing out the deal together before going their separate ways. Negan went to talk to his client while Ford went to catch the three women up on what was going on. He didn’t normally like deals that revolved around the chances of the perp being offed, but he honestly couldn’t care less about what happened to this guy.

Ford was just about to enter the room when he heard laughter coming from inside the room. He peaked in the small window on the door to see all three women talking joking around while enjoying the McDonald’s he’d had one of the officers go get for them.

Darla was the one who caught his eye the most. Her smile was so bright it was blinding. There was a particular gleam in her eyes that told him she wasn’t broken, but temporarily knocked off her feet by life. Ford smiled at the scene before him. Part of him wanted to leave them to their fun, but there was still work to be done. He opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately the laughter died out as they knew it was time to get serious again.

“Has my father confessed yet?” Darla asked him.

Honest to god when he’d first laid eyes on her he wasn’t sure if she was a guy or a girl. The short hair and her damn near flat chest had screamed boy to him. He hadn’t really known until she’d told him her name and that she’d had a miscarriage.

“I’m afraid not,” he told them sitting down, “But hopefully that’ll change in the next couple minutes. I’ve got a good lawyer, Negan, in there now to talk to him. He’s technically here to defend the guy, but he has a moral compass and wants to see your father behind bars just as much as me and you.”

“How is his presence going to help?” Mrs. Williams asked.

“Well, Negan and I have worked out a deal to give him should he agree to sign the confession slip. Instead of 70 years plus a life sentence and a $131,000 fine, he’s being offered a deal of 50 years to life in prison with the possibility of parole in 40 years when he’s 85, plus a reduced fine of $85,000. The biggest difference is there first option, should he choose not to confess, doesn’t have the option of parole.”

“So, either way he’ll most likely die behind bars?” Sasha asked.

“Yes, he will most likely spend the rest of his life and die behind bars. Are you okay with this deal?” Ford asked Darla.

She nodded, “I’m good with it if it means I don’t have to stand up there in front of people and testify all over again.”

“I know. I’m doing everything I can to get this guy to plead guilty,” Ford tried to reassure him.

“I know,” Darla mumbled.

“I do have one other thing to tell you,” Ford continued reaching over the table to hand Tiana a business card, “Should Will still refuse to sign, this case will go to trial and she’ll need to hire her own lawyer. Negan gave me the suggestion of Morgan Jones. He told me he’d probably be willing to take the case on for almost nothing because of what the charges are.”

“Thank you,” Tiana said taking the card, “I’ll be sure to give him a call based on what happens.”

Ford nodded and once again left the room to go check on Will and Negan.

* * *

Will banged his fist on the table out of anger, “I’ll be an old man by the time I’m able to get out. Nothing will matter anymore.”

“Maybe not to you now, but after 40 years of being locked up, any man would wish for a taste of freedom.”

Will rolled his eyes at him.

“You have to know that this deal is the only shot you’ve got to getting out ever,” Negan tried to reason with the man, “If you don’t take this deal, you  _ will _ die behind bars.”

That caught Will’s attention, “How can you be so certain?”

“Because I’m a lawyer who’s reviewed your case. If this goes to trial you will be, without a shadow of a doubt, sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. You committed feticide Will, that one carried a life sentence on it’s own. That one crime’s sentence doesn’t include the extra 70 years tacked onto your sentence plus an extra $46,000 added to your fine.”

Will leaned forward, casting his eyes down toward the table, “So if I take the deal, I’ll have a better chance of living again than if I don’t?”

“Most definitely,” Negan said giving him a fake smile of assurance.

Will sighed in defeat and picked up the pen and paper. He stared at it for a long time, reading over the charges listed on it before laying it back down on the table. He hit the pen against the table a few times before finally signing his name to the confession slip.

“There,” he grumbled, “it’s done.”

Just as he pushed the signed slip over to Negan, Ford walked in. Negan held the paper up with a sly smile on his face. Ford looked from the paper back to Will’s pissed expression and then back to the paper. If he wasn’t in a public place he’d shout for joy as seeing Will’s signature on the bottom of the sheet.

“Mother dick,” Ford said as he grinned wide, “we got him.”


	7. Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl starts the medical portion of his transition. Will Dixon arrives in prison only to find that Merle is already there.
> 
> WARNING: brief descriptions of underage rape/non-con and minor use of racial slurs

_Daryl - age 15_

The uniformed officers didn’t waste time in loading Will into the back of a cop car and driving him to the local jail to await his sentencing date on Wednesday. With the confession, the case should only be open for a few more days. Daryl, Tiana, and Sasha had all cried in relief when detective Ford told them that Will had confessed to everything. He couldn’t believe that it was finally over, that he was safe. He made sure thank Negan profusely for helping to come up with the plan to get his father to confess.

On Wednesday, the three were unfortunately required to appear in court, but none of them had to get up and speak. They all sat there and listened as the judge sealed his father’s fate. His father glared at him the entire time as they lead him away to be put in the larger prison about an hour drive from here. He was still supposed to stay another weak in the local jail while they got a place at the larger one, but soon enough he was going to be very far away from Daryl.

It took another week for Tiana’s request for foster-to-adopt to come through and officially make her Daryl’s legal guardian. They wouldn’t be able to file for official adoption for another couple months. The government wanted to make sure that the Williams’ household was a good fit for Daryl especially since there was no father figure in the home.

As soon as Tiana had the papers in her hands, she called Dr. Peletier’s office and scheduled a date to meet about Daryl’s hormone therapy. It was by far of of the best days of his life when he went to see Dr. Peletier to start the internal stage of his transition.

“There are going to be four different parts to this treatment,” Dr. Peletier told him, “The first stage is physical. Your body is going to begin to redistribute your weight. You should notice weight disappearing from your hips and thighs and your arms and legs should develop some more muscle definition. Of course any weight gain or loss will depend on your lifestyle. You should notice parts of your face starting to appear more masculine as well. The treatment also causes a thickening of the vocal cords which will give you a deeper voice. Your body hair should also start to thicken and take on a more masculine pattern. As for beard hair, it’s harder to tell as some transgender men get a lot of it fast while some don’t get much at all ever.”

Daryl listened intently to every word of what she was saying.

“How long will all this take?” he asked curiously.

“Well, some parts of the transition should be complete within the year at most while other parts can take up to five years to fully develop.”

Daryl nodded in understanding.

“The second part is the impact it could have on your emotional state since you’re basically choosing to go through puberty all over again,” she explained, “you might find that you’ll benefit from a counselor to help you talk through things as you transition. Although, considering what you in for last time I saw you, it would be best for you to get a counselor anyway. A really close friend of mine is a counselor, would you be open to seeing her if I gave you her number?”

Daryl hesitated, he wasn’t super okay with the idea of sitting in front of a stranger and having to talk about his feelings. Especially his feeling about the stuff that happened with his father. He preferred to forget about it and leave it all in the past.

“Sure,” he relented, “if you think it’ll help me with my transition.”

Tiana, who was sitting in the back of the room watching, breathed a sigh of relief. She’d tried a hundred time to get him to agree to going to see a counselor, but he’d always refused saying he was fine now that his father was locked up. She hadn’t even thought about him needing one to help him through his transition she’d been so focused on the sexual abuse and miscarriage.

“Amazing, her name is Michonne Grimes. Her office is about half an hour North of here, just outside of Atlanta. She’s an old friend of mine, we went to college together for four years. I’ll give Mrs. Williams her number on your way out.”

Dr. Peletier looked up at Mrs. Williams in the back just in time for her to see her mouthing the words “thank you.”

“Now, the third part of the transition is um... more sexual in nature,” Dr. Peletier said approaching the topic cautiously considering her patient’s history, “There will probably be a change in your libido with different things arousing you than what used to...”

“I don’t think I’ll need to worry about anything sexual for a long time,” he stopped her, “I really don’t want to hear about anything having to do with sex. I’ve never experienced consensual sex so I _hope_ that when I do everything will feel different. At the moment, however, when anyone even looks at me the way my father used to I nearly pass out from fear. Can’t have sex if you can’t even stomach the thought of it.”

Dr. Peletier nodded in understanding, “Well, if you ever have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Daryl again nodded his understanding, ready to be done with this part of the conversation. The boy quite obviously needed some kind of therapy or all of the stuff he was bottling up inside of him was going to kill him.

“The last thing that this treatment affects is your reproductive system,” she said calmly, knowing she was still in stressful territory for Daryl, “Your periods should become lighter, arrive later, and be shorter in length before they stop altogether. Testosterone greatly decreases your chances of becoming pregnant, but it doesn’t eliminate the chances of it fully. So, whenever you do start having sex with a future partner perhaps, you’ll need to be on birth control and use protection. If you ever do get pregnant while taking testosterone, stop taking it immediately after finding out as it could endanger the fetus. Should you ever choose to use your reproductive system to have a baby with someone, you’ll have to stop the testosterone treatment and wait until I give you the signal that it’s okay to start trying to conceive.”

Daryl listened to it all in silence since he knew it was important information, but he still didn’t like thinking about having children. Everytime the image of himself pregnant popped into his mind it slammed him back to the moment in which he collapsed onto the porch of his old house, blood spilling between his legs.

Both him and Tiana listened carefully as Dr. Peletier described the common side effects of the treatment and in what scenarios they’d need to come in to see her immediately. He knew that he was going to be getting his first dose today so that both he and Tiana could see how it was supposed to be done. She’d told him the injection site was normally in the gluteal muscles, but since he wasn’t comfortable with people touching him in that area, he could self-administer it in his thigh muscles. They both watched very carefully as Dr. Peletier showed them how to do it, making mental notes for when he’d have to do it next time.

Daryl left the hospital feeling like he was floating on air. He couldn’t believe that things had worked out in such a way to allow him to begin the medical portion of his transition.

* * *

_Merle - age 20, 1 1/2 years into his 5 year prison sentence_

Merle growled as he threw another punch at his opponent's head. They were in the middle of the prison yard fighting to see who would be the one to take over the toughest gang in the prison, the Scorpions, now that their old leader had managed to get out on parole. It was just Merle and some psycho named Jacob left. Both of them were in on drug trafficking charges and had known each other on the outside while running with the same gang. It’s why they’re so well matched, they’d seen each other fight before and so knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Jacob ducked the punch and tried to swipe Merle’s legs out from under him, but Merle noticed and jumped over them. Merle brought his knee forward fast catching the other guy in the ribs, knocking him backwards. He took the opportunity to knock Jacob the rest of the way to the ground and started wailing on him. The guards noticed, but didn’t do anything to stop them from fighting. They stopped them when they were inside the prison, but the prison yard was fair game for anything except murder. Merle felt Jacob slap his thigh which was a sign of surrender. Merle smirked when he felt it and stopped hitting.

“Had enough, boy?” he sneered.

Jacob nodded as blood poured out of his nose and down into his mouth, staining his teeth. Merle stood up before grabbing Jacob’s hand and helping him up.

“Looks like we’ve got our new leader,” Simon spoke up as he watched the two men rise.

“Damn straight,” Merle gloated shoving Jacob into the group.

They heard the opening of the main gate which caused all of the to turn their heads towards it.

“And just in time to greet the new meat, too,” Merle said watching for either a single passenger police car or the prison bus to come rolling in.

In came a police car and they watched curiously to see if it was anyone they knew. Merle froze in shock as the prisoner’s face came into view. It was his father and he looked pissed. Merle swallowed hard as he wondered where Darla was. He’d never gone back for him having been too ashamed about getting thrown out of the army after only six months for fighting with his superior officer.

He’d turned to drugs to relieve his guilt about failing to make enough money to get Darla out of there. He’d been planning on using the drug money he earned instead to get his sister out, but he was busted with a shipment of coke just four months later. He hadn’t even been gone a whole year and he had managed to land himself in prison for the next five years.

“Merle? You okay man?” someone asked him.

“Maybe, maybe not. That asshole is my father,” he hissed angrily.

“Holy shit,” a few of his crew whispered.

“We’ll see if I’m okay after I find out why the son of a bitch is in here and where my baby sister’s at,” Merle explained.

Merle waited calmly in the yard knowing the guards always brought the new guys out to the yard after showing them their cell, the shower room, and the mess hall. He paced back and forth across the yard, chewing on his bottom lip. His crew watched him as he paced, not saying a thing. They’d all heard a lot about Merle’s sister and his piece of shit father. Some of them were just as curious as Merle about what had happened.

Soon enough, Will was brought out to the yard and unceremoniously shoved towards the rest of them. That shove wasn’t a soft one, the guard had been _trying_ to knock him over. His father must’ve done something unbelievably horrible if the guards wished they could hurt him.

As soon as the guards retreated back to their assigned posts, Merle made a beeline for his father. His father saw him coming and recognition dawned on his face and he grinned.

“Merle! What a shock to see you here,” he said making no move to come any closer, “I always knew you were destined for prison.”

“Look who’s talking,” Merle hissed at his father, “You’re in here same as me. But not for the same thing.”

“How are you so sure?” his father snapped defensively.

“Because I saw what that guard did. That man wanted you to fall flat on your face when he pushed you. They don’t do that to everyone. You did something pretty damn awful if the guards aren’t above roughing you up before you’ve had a chance to start anything here.”

Will didn’t respond, he just rolled his eyes. He looked behind Merle’s back at the group of men standing behind him, glaring at him.

“Who are those guys?” he teased, “You part of their gang?”

“I’m their leader,” Merle snapped back at him, “I won their respect in a fight fair and square. You’ll learn the hierarchy of this place soon enough.”

“I’m sure I will,” he said, “I’m gonna be in here for a while anyway.”

“Speaking of that, what did you do to finally get your drunk, pathetic ass locked up?”

“Illegal possession of firearms plus a few other things,” he replied vaguely.

“Where’s Darla?” Merle demanded to know.

“The bitch ran away to live with some niggers in town.”

Merle saw a flash of red at the word bitch and punched his father in the mouth. He didn’t like the idea of Darla living with a bunch of blacks, but it might be better than her living with their father.

“Don’t you ever call her that word again, bastard,” Merle threatened him.

“Or what?” his father asked getting in his face, “That’s what she is. A lying, stinking skank...”

He was cut off abruptly by Merle’s fist flying into his face again. He didn’t stop until he felt someone pulling him off of his father. It took him a minute to realize it was the guards who’d pulled him off which meant he’d been close to killing his father. He looked down and noticed that he was unconscious and his face was all bloody.

“Solitary confinement for the both of you,” the guard yelled, “Robert, take that one to the infirmary to get him fixed up and then take him to solitary. Put him in cell 3, I’ll put this one in cell 2.”

Merle didn’t fight the guard as they led him away. He was determined to get out in four years instead of five for good behavior, but it didn’t seem to be going to well at this point. The loud locking of the solid door behind him didn’t phase him. He’s gotten used to the sounds of metal doors closing after being here for so long, just over a year and a half.

Merle sighed as he waited to hear the guards bring his father in from the infirmary. It didn’t take super long despite the amount of damage Merle had done to him. He peaked out through the small hole in the door to see his father’s face had barely been treated at all. Really they’d only wiped the blood off and taped the biggest cuts. It was strange since doctor here was usually very thorough with his patients wanting to make sure they lived long enough to fulfill their sentences. The guards once again shoved him and this time he did fall.

“You deserve this you disgusting pedo,” one of the guards spat at him on the floor.

As soon as what he said clicked in Merle’s head, he was filled with a sense of dread. His father had mentioned being in here for more than illegal firearms. Had be raped a minor? Cold, heavy dread settled in the pit of his stomach as a thought occurred to him. _Had he raped Darla?_

Merle waited until the guards left and he heard a groan coming from his father’s cell to question him.

“That guard called you a pedo? The hell does he mean by that?!?” Merle hissed, his voice carrying across the hallway to his father.

He heard a depraved laugh leave his father, “It means your sister and I had a lot of fun without you. Well, at least I did.”

“You son of a bitch!” Merle screamed and banged on his cell door wishing he could get to him, “When we get out of here I’m going to kill you!”

His father just laughed again and Merle knew he was enjoying this newfound psychological torture.

“One of my favorite things was when she stopped fighting about halfway through and started enjoying it. You should've heard her cries of pain turn to moans of pleasure as she screamed for me to stop. All I could hear was her cries of ‘dad’ over and over again as I fucked her.”

Merle wished he could plug his ears, but he found himself listening to his father feeling like this was partially his fault because he’s left her with this man.

“Sometimes in the morning I’d wake up hard and go into her room and start fucking her while she was still asleep. She’d get so wet when I did it that way. She was probably imagining some Prince Charming only to wake up to me shoving my cock down her throat and making her choke on my cum.”

His father went on and on describing what he did to his sister. All the positions he’d taken her in and all places he’d taken her at.

“I think my favorite time was when I dragged her whore ass out into the woods. I made her strip out there and go skinny dipping while I pleasures myself. I had my rifle trained on her the entire time to make sure she wouldn’t run. She came out of the water a soaking wet, beautiful, slutty vision. I shoved her to the ground and tied her hands to a nearby tree. I pulled one of her legs up and put it over my shoulder and then I pulled my knife out. That hunting knife your mother gave me, the one with the really thick handle. She started struggling like she hadn’t in a long time. I fucked her with the handle of my knife until she came. Then I fucked her over sensitive hole myself and came inside of her while she screamed. It was glorious.”

Merle punched the wall so hard he was certain he’d broken at least one of his fingers.

“Part of me hopes that’s the day I got her pregnant.”

Merle stopped attacking the wall when he heard that, “You bastard! You got her pregnant?!?”

“Apparently,” Will hummed, “But she’s not pregnant anymore. I beat the kid out of her.”

Merle felt like he was going to throw up. He’d been feeling sorry for himself about his life had turned out but now he knew his sister had been having a much worse life than him.

“Why?” Merle cried brokenly, “Why did you do it?”

“Because I was horny and your sister’s hot. It was fun.”

Merle move quickly over to the toilet and emptied the contents of his shitty prison lunch into it. Images of the little sister he’d left behind in all those positions flashing through his head. He kept heaving until there was nothing left to come out and he was just dry heaving.

The first thing he was going to do when he got back to his gang was spread the word about what his father had done. The last pedophile that had been in here hadn’t lasted two days after being found out. His throat was slit in the showers by the Scorpions’ old gang leader before he was the leader. That kill was why they’d given him the coveted position of leader. Merle knew the man wasn’t going to last a day in this place after word got out about him raping the scorpions’ leader’s little sister Darla.


	8. Revenge

Merle was forced to listen to his father describe his sexual exploits with his sister for the rest of the night. His father laughed and taunted him with graphic descriptions of her rape making Merle unable to sleep. He felt like he had to listen, like it was his ultimate punishment for the choices he’d made. He should’ve never left her there.

He thanked god when the guards returned and let him out. It took all his strength not to lunge at his father right then and there. He needed to get to his gang so that he could get them to help his cover his father’s murder.

“Welcome back, Merle,” his roomate, Ben, called out to him.

Merle would normally call back and joke with him as he was let into his cell, but he wasn’t in the mood today. Instead, he silently entered his cell and walked over to lie on his bed. Ben stared at him in confusion. This was not the Merle he knew.

“What happened in there man?” he asked, “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Merle dug his nails into the palm of his hand before turning to look directly into the eyes of his cellmate.

“I found out why my father’s in here,” he spoke harshly, “He’s a fucking pedophile.”

Ben gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. He was in here for a non-violent drug charge. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how depraved Merle’s father had to be to go after a child.

“The bastard has been raping my sister for years,” he growled punching the bunk bed above him, “He said he’s been doing it since she was thirteen. He must’ve started not long after I left.”

“We’re going to kill him, right?” Ben asked him.

“Hell yeah we’re gonna kill him. I doubt any of the cops in this place will stop us either as long as we do it somewhere quiet, like the showers since there ain’t no camera in there,” Merle mused, already hatching a plan.

Ben nodded along as Merle started to describe how they were going to do it. He didn’t care how they killed the bastard, he just needed to die. No man who raped a child should be allowed to live.

Word passed quickly around the prison about Will Dixon, the newest arrival, being a pedophile and violating Merle Dixon’s little sister. Soon enough, just about every guy in the prison, regardless of gang affiliation, was ready and willing to help take him out. Merle picked a random group of guys in order to make the kill harder to pinpoint to one gang for the kill. They all wanted him dead, but none of them wanted their sentences increased because of it.

Merle seriously doubted that the guards were going to try really hard to pin his father’s murder on anyone since they also hated him. He was willing to bet they’d make a half-assed attempt at trying to find out who did it and then abandon the case. Nobody, not even in this shitty place, was eager to help avenge the death of a pedophile.

* * *

Merle and the guys he’d picked to do the job all gathered in the showers the next day. They went in one at a time at slightly different intervals as that it would look slightly normal to the guards watching on closed circuit TV. One of the guys from the Saints crew tipped him off that Will was supposed to meet them in the showers the next day to negotiate a protection deal. They’d only taken it to give them an opportunity to kill the guy, they had no intentions of protecting him.

Inside were Merle and one other Scorpion, the leader of the Saints, two Dragons, and a Mayan. They made an unlikely crew since most of them were known to beef with the others. It was to make it harder to think of this an a coordinated effort by the gangs. They also weren’t necessarily the toughest guys on each crew so that it wouldn’t look like a premeditated hit.

They all pretended to start doing what they were here for. A few of the guys undressed and stood under the spray so it would appear that they were post shower. Merle and the rest of the guys took their shirts off to make themselves look like they were getting ready to shower.

A couple other guys were scheduled to start a fight in the dinning hall to draw even more attention away from the showers. After they made the kill and left, more guys had agreed to enter the showers and ignore the boys so that it would be hard to pinpoint when he was killed and by who.

Soon enough, Will walked in. He immediately made his way over to the Saints’ leader, Michael, to have his scheduled meeting. He didn’t notice Merle and the others closing in behind him until it was too late.

“Hey man,” Michael called out to Will.

Michael flipped his wet hair out of his face and did his best to hide his disgust as they shook hands.

“Michael,” Will responded.

“I hear you’re wanting protection from the Saints. I’m willing to play, but it’ll cost ya,” Michael said.

“What do you need me to do?” Will asked.

“I need you,” Michael glanced over Will’s shoulder and then whispered threateningly, “to stand very, very still.”

Will was about to ask why when when one of the Dragons closed the gap between them and slapped his hand over Will’s mouth just as he tried to cry out. The rest of the guys swarmed around them, all of them glaring at Will.

“We don’t protect pedophiles,” Michael hissed.

Will’s eyes widened as he realized he’d been set up. He started to struggle as soon as Merle came into his line of sight.

“Everyone in this prison knows what you’ve done,” Merle spat in his face, “They know how you raped my little sister for the past two years and enjoyed every second of it. They know about how you impregnated her and then beat her to make her lose the baby.”

Will was starting to panic now, struggling even harder but he was no match for the gang members holding him. Micheal pulled out a shank he’d had one of his crew make. It was small enough to bury out in the yard without drawing any attention or disturbing the earth all that much. It was perfect. Michael then handed it to Merle who twirled it in his hand for a few seconds, savoring the moment. Merle stepped towards his father, a cruel glint in his eyes.

“This is for Darla,” he hissed.

Merle then used the knife to slash his father’s throat, cutting it wide open. The guys holding him thrust him forward onto the ground to keep the blood from getting all over them. His father shook as he clawed at his throat, unable to breathe, drowning in his own blood. All of the watched with a sick sense of satisfaction as the man died at their feet.

Once his body stopped moving, the Mayan left, a sign to the other guys to start coming into the shower room. Two new guys appeared not showing the body much attention at all. Merle grabbed his father by the feet and dragged him over to one of the far stalls. He turned the water on and left the body.

All of the men worked together to wash the blood down the drain before showering and leaving again in a staggered fashion as more men kept coming in, showering, and then leaving again.

It took guards four hours to notice that Will hadn’t come out of the showers yet. They sent two guards in to look for him only to find him dead. They just shook their heads knowing how much paperwork was going to be in their future. They called in the corner to get the body and a janitor to clean the shower area. Other than that, they didn’t do anything. They didn’t plan on investing Will Dixon’s death unless they had to. They were just as happy to see him dead as the inmates probably were to kill him.

* * *

Daryl was sitting on the couch watching TV when something on the news bar caught his attention. He blinked thinking he saw his father’s name. He quickly flipped to a news channel where some story about a prison murder was on. He was about to flip back to the other channel when he heard his father’s name. Sure enough, there on the screen was his father’s mugshot. He quickly turned up the volume to listen closely to what was being said.

“Convicted pedophile Will Dixon was found murdered yesterday afternoon in the prison just outside Atlanta, Georgia. Reports say his throat was slit in the showers by a group of inmates after they discovered why he was in prison.”

There was a low buzz starting to develop in Daryl’s mind as he continued to listen. The news lady was back giving more facts about his father’s murder.

“The only suspect the police have put forward is Will Dixon’s older son, Merle Dixon. Merle was arrested about a year and a half ago on various drug related charges. The two had a violent altercation just days before the murder, occurring just minutes after the older Dixon arrived. The two were placed in solitary confinement, but it is unknown what went on while they were there. So far, no witnesses have come forward. Authorities believe this was a coordinated attack against Mr. Dixon.”

Daryl heard someone enter the room, but he paid them no mind as his attention remained fixed on the TV. There was someone who Daryl assumed was an inmate on the screen now.

“Look, I shower in the morning so I never even saw the body. But I know what that man was in here for. I mean, molesting his own daughter?” the shook his head looking disgusted, “His death is no great loss to this world.”

Daryl felt like he was going to throw up. Whoever this guy was he’d just told the whole world that he’d been raped by his father. There was no way this story wasn’t on more channels and that the whole town didn’t know now. He felt like screaming, or punching something, or just crying in the corner, or maybe doing all three. Everyone was going to treat him differently now. He couldn’t even begin to process the fact that his brother was in that prison for drugs and is now the prime suspect in his father’s murder. He’d have to deal with that one later.

“Daryl?” came Tiana’s soft voice.

He wanted to reply and say he was fine but he couldn’t get his voice to work. It was clogged and he felt like he was drowning. His heartbeat was loud in his ear, like his father was pounding on some imaginary wall in his head. His mind was a tornado of emotions and he could feel his breathing speeding up and getting shallow. Tears were falling freely from his eyes now as he felt himself falling forward and arms catching him, pulling him against something solid and warm.

His father is dead. He felt relief that the man never getting at him ever again was a certainty now. But then he felt guilty for feeling that relief because his father was still a person. Next he was angry for feeling guilty because his father had done atrocious things he wasn’t really human. Then he felt guilty about feeling angry about feeling guilty.

On top of all that were his thoughts about him being the reason for his father’s death. If he hadn’t turned his father in, his father would still be alive. Another part of his brain reminded him that if he hadn’t turned him in he’d probably still be raping him everyday. It was a crushing, unending cycle of hatred and guilt and anger spinning around in his head and he didn’t know how to stop it or even which train of thought was correct.

He also felt fear, heart stopping, earth shattering fear. Everyone knows now that he’s broken and used. People were going to call him horrible names and hate him because of it even though it wasn’t his fault his father raped him. This was going to be his reputation now at school and everywhere else he went. The kid who got raped by their own father whose father was then possibly murdered by his older brother.

“Am I evil because I feel glad that he’s dead? He’s my father and I’m happy he’s dead,” he whimpered through gasps for air, “Am I insane because I’m crying over the murder of my rapist?”

Tiana hugged him closer, kissing his cheek.

“Everyone knows now. Everyone knows how used and broken I am,” he choked out.

“Daryl, hush. It’s all going to be okay,” Tiana tried to comfort him, rocking him back and forth against her.

“I killed him,” Daryl cried louder, “I’m the one who sent him there. This is my fault.”

Tiana felt herself crying as she listened to his words. Part of her wishes Sasha wasn’t at school so she could help, but the other part of her was happy she didn’t have to see her best friend this way. It was hard to watch her son as he tried to understand what he was feeling. He was drowning in guilt for sending his father to his death. Then he was confused on whether or not he should feel guilty about the sense of joy knowing he was dead brought him. Finally, he was terrified because now everyone knew. This story was on CNN, which means it will soon be everywhere.

She spent the next half hour doing her best to comfort him. She listened to everything he said and did her best to respond soothingly. Eventually he passed out in her arms, exhausted from the emotional toll what had just happened had on him. She carefully picked him up bridal style and carried him to his room. After tucking him in and kissing his forehead, she left the room closing the door quietly behind her.


	9. Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl confronts Merle

Daryl didn’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom for the next two days. While Tiana did force him to eat a bit of something, she didn’t force him to go to school. She couldn’t even begin to image what he was feeling. He has to be terrified of what’s going to be said about him as soon as he sets foot in that building. The murder and actions of Will Dixon has already become popular gossip around the town. She knew she’d be hearing more gossip if she was working right now, but she’d called off sighting a “family emergency” so that she could take care of Daryl; he shouldn’t be alone right now.

Still, she’d already heard comments made by certain people in the town while she was out on errands. She’d kept her mouth shut, not wanting to start anything, but the comments made her angry anyway. It wasn’t that the comments were degrading towards Daryl--though some of them were--it was that they were talking about it so casually, like this wasn’t tearing a child’s world apart.

She shuddered as she remembered the comments.

_ “That poor girl,” a woman said. “Poor girl?” a man responded, “She could’ve just run away. This is partially her fault for staying.” _

_ “I wonder what a pussy that young feels like wrapped around my cock. It had to feel amazing,” some drunk guy sitting on a street corner said to a buddy, “That’s probably why her father couldn’t get enough of it.” _

_ “Did you hear about what that drunk, Will Dixon, did to his daughter?” a woman spoke openly to her friend in the grocery store, “Such a terrible thing.” “I hear you,” her friend replied, “Fifteen and that poor girl has already lost a child.” _

Sasha was also very worried about her brother. She’d tried many times to lift his spirits to no avail. So instead she’d just sat by his side as often as possible reading a book or doing work for one of her classes. She’d told her mother the gossip was bad at her college as well. People were fascinated by this grizzly story about rape and murder to the point that they seemed to forget that real people had been involved. The more sexist the person talking about it, the more appalling the comments. So many people had tried to ask her opinion on it, but she’d carefully skirted the questions not wanting to become apart of it while her brother, the victim, was lying in bed a home, drowning in a severe bout of depression.

Tiana’s head shot up when she heard Daryl’s bedroom door open. He staggered out slowly, like it took an unbelievable amount of effort to just move his legs. He didn’t say a word, he sat down on the couch next to her and leaned his body against hers. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close and he let her. Reaching out like this was a good sign. He wouldn’t be okay for a long time, but he was getting better.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. He honestly couldn’t feel much of anything. All he knew was that he didn’t want to do anything. He didn’t want to read, or eat, or talk, or even just watch TV and he definitely didn’t want to go to school. Everything felt pointless to him now that his entire life had been exposed to the world.

“Do you think you could eat a little something?” she tried.

Daryl shrugged again. He knew she was going to force him to eat something at some point today. He knew it was out of love, but he couldn’t see the point of eating if his life was over already anyway.

“Okay,” she relented, “maybe later.”

The two just sat there on the couch, cuddling until Daryl drifted off in Tiana’s arms. Sasha arrived home about an hour after to see them there. She smiled softly and came to sit across from them in the armchair.

“How is he?” she asked softly.

“He seems to be coming around slowly. He came out of his room of his own free will to come find me, so that’s a step in the right direction.”

Sasha nodded and moved her hand to brush his short hair a bit. It was a mess of knots and greasy, too. She leaned over and pulled a flyer she’d gotten at school out of backpack.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, “maybe this would be a good thing for me and Daryl to do together. Try to help him deal with all this by being surrounded by people who understand parts of what he’s going through.”

She handed the flyer to her mother. It was for a hip-hop dance group at her college who focused on championing victims of domestic abuse. The members varied in age from 12 to 35 years old. They welcome amateurs and experienced alike.

“Do you think he’d go for this?” Tiana asked.

Sasha had some dance training from when she used to do ballet in high school, but Daryl had none.

“I hope so. While their main goal is to champion victims of domestic abuse and spread awareness of it, they also, however, are very openly LGBT inclusive. The co-leader of the group, Paul Rovia—though most people call him by his nickname Jesus—has been openly gay for the past seven years.”

“Really? How old is he?”

“He’s only 18. He came out when he was 11.”

“Brave man,” Tiana whispered.

“I know. I’m hoping that if I can get Daryl to join that Paul will prove to be a great mentor for him. He regularly marches in pride parades further north and often performs there as well as a backup dancer for some of the artists performing there.”

“Will they let me dance the male parts?” Daryl whispered.

They hadn’t realized he’d woken up while they were talking. Sasha looked at him, his eyes showing both hope and fear.

“I’m sure they will. After all, you are a boy,” she assured him.

“When does it start?”

“You can start whenever you want to. It’s an open thing. Their next meeting is Saturday.”

Daryl bit his lip and looked at Tiana, “Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”

Tiana wished she could say no, but he needed to finish his education no matter what. But tomorrow was Friday, so she really didn’t see the point of him only going back for a day. Maybe going to this group first will help give him the confidence he needs to face his classmates.

“No, you don’t, she told him, “But you do have to go back Monday, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, shifting as if he was uncomfortable, “I want to see Merle.”

Tiana froze, she didn’t know what to make of that.

“Why?” Sasha cut in, “He left you?”

Daryl nodded, “I want to know why he didn’t come back. I  _ need _ to know why.”

“I looked up his record, Daryl,” Tiana explained,” He’s in there for dealing cocaine.”

“I need to see him,” he insisted, “I need to know if he was involved. Please.

Tiana sighed, defeated, “Okay, I’ll take you to see him tomorrow after lunch.”

* * *

Merle was surprised when some guards came to his cell and told him he had a visitor. He never got visitors from anyone.

“Who is it?” he asked, but he received no answer.

Honestly, he didn’t care who it was. Ever since murdering his father, he’s been kept on a short leash. Nobody is eager to solve the case nor does anyone have any intentions of doing so but they have to look like they do for the sake of the press now breathing down their necks.

The police had been furious when they found out someone had leaked the story to the press. They tore the place apart to find out who did it and fired him. It had been a rookie guard who’s been trying to make a little extra money by selling the story. One in particular, Detective Ford Merle thought the name was had stormed in and giving the guy a verbal smackdown he wasn’t soon going to forget.

Merle had been in the holding cell in the office when it happened. That’s how he’d found out that Ford was the guy who’d handled Darla’s case when she came in. He was very grateful to the guy for locking his old man up and rescuing Darla.

The door buzzed and the guards led him into a gray room with no windows. They didn’t chain him to the table, much to his surprise.

“The visitor says you won’t hurt them and that there is no reason to chain you up. As always, the camera is still on without volume. While you are a prisoner, you still have rights,” the guard explained, “They’ll be in shortly.”

The guard left and Merle waited anxiously for whoever was about to come through that door. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like forever. Finally, the door opened and in walked the guard followed by two other people. His mouth dropped in shock as he realized it was Darla standing in front of him.

I’ll be waiting right outside,” the guard told them and then left.

As soon as the door was closed behind the door, Merle slowly stood up.

“Darla?” he whispered.

He thought he saw her flinch slightly, but she quickly nodded and he didn’t waste any time getting around the table to reach her. Without hesitation he pulled her against him, never wanting to let her go again. Hesitantly, he felt her embrace him back, but only briefly before pushing him away.

“What?” he asked softly, feeling a bit hurt, “Not happy to see me?”

“You left me,” she hissed before continuing in a more normal voice, “And hugs make me uncomfortable unless I’m the one to initiate them.”

Merle could hear and see the pain of his abandonment of her in her eyes and voice.

“Darla, I’m so sorry,” he whispered crying, “I should’ve never left you. I should’ve never left you with that bastard. I’m so sorry.”

He collapsed onto his knees in front of her, unable to stand the weight of his guilt. Even if he had come back after being dishonorably discharged, he’d have been too late. He’d asked to know what happened to his sister and the cops had told him. They said her father raped her for the first time about four months after he’d left. He wasn’t discharged until six months into his service time.

He felt hands on his face, turning him to look up. Her eyes didn’t hold hatred, only confusion and forgiveness. He wanted to pull her close again, but he remembered her says she didn’t like hugs. The implications of that shook him once again.

“Merle,” came her quiet voice, “I forgive you.”

Merle felt himself cry harder at that. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He deserved to be hated by her for the rest of his life.

“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered staring into her eyes.

“Maybe you don’t,” she responded, “but I’m giving it to you anyway.”

He could see the kindness in her eyes. Kindness that she shouldn’t be giving him.

“ _ How could she, after enduring all of what their father did to her, still be kind?”  _ he thought.

“Thank you,” he choked out.

She stretched out her hand and helped him stand up. He wiped away his tears and gave her a sad smile.

“Why did you come see me?” Merle asked slowly sitting back down.

The two women in front of him, Darla and some black woman he’d never met before, sat down across from him. The woman was clearly protective of Darla. He could tell just by the way she was holding herself and looking at him. Merle swallowed nervously and wondered just how important this woman was to Daryl’s.

“I wanted to ask you why you never came back for me? What happened that you left me here alone?” she said.

Merle hung his head.

“I was ashamed,” he admitted, ”I promised to come back with enough money to get you out of there, but I was thrown out of the army only six months into it.”

“Why?”

“I got into a fight with a supervisor over him giving me a gay partner. I was thrown out of the army for insubordination.”

This time Merle was certain he saw Darla flinch.

“Darla, what is it?” he asked cautiously.

He watched as she brought her hand up to her mouth to chew on the side of it. A nervous habit she’s had since she was a small child. Her eyes flicked over to the other woman who nodded at her.

“Tell him whatever you want to,” the woman said, “I’ll be right here.”

Now Merle was really confused as Darla turned to look at him.

“My name isn’t Darla,” she revealed, “I’m transgender.”

Merle blinked not really processing that, “What?”

She swallowed nervously, “I was born in the wrong body. I’m not a girl, I’m a boy. My name’s Daryl.”

Merle just stared at his sister.

“Now little sis...,” Merle began.

“Brother,” Daryl cut him off.

Merle watched as she... he? reached out to take the woman’s hand where it was lying on the table. The woman immediately clasped it in hers and rubbed her thumb over it soothingly.

“So you’re saying,” Merle tried again, “that you’re not my sister, but my brother even though you weren’t born with a dick between your legs.”

Daryl bit his lip hard, almost drawing blood.

“My body doesn’t define my gender,” he explained, “It’s who I am inside that counts. I’ve already begun my transition. You can tell by my hair and the binding bra I wear to hide my breasts. I’m on testosterone hormone therapy. I’m planning on getting my breasts removed when I’m 18.”

Merle blinked a few times as he took all of that in.

“I’m also gay,” Daryl added, just to get it all out there in one go.

Merle sat back in his chair mulling everything over. His brain was having trouble processing all of that information. His baby sister was sitting in front of him telling him that she’s not a girl, but a boy. This means that his sister isn’t his sister but his brother. Which means he shouldn’t refer to her as a her but as a him. His head was beginning to hurt a bit. He loved his sister... brother so much so he could never see himself hating her... him, but he wasn’t sure if he could accept him.

Another thought struck him. His brother had just said that he’s also gay, the very issue he got kicked out of the army for opposing. Traditionally, that would mean that his brother likes other men, but his brother was born his sister. So, does the gay thing come first and he likes women so now, because he’s transgender, he’s technically straight or, does the gay thing come second so that now he’s gay but he used to be considered straight?

“Wait,” he said pinching the bridge of his nose, “you just said you’re gay. So do you like girls or boys? Cause you used to be a girl, but now you’re a boy.”

Daryl sighed, “I was never a girl, I was always a boy. I just hadn’t realized it yet. That means, I’ve always been gay. I am a gay man, always have been, always will be.”

Merle nodded slowly, squeezing his eye shut in thought and massaging the bridge of his nose, “Okay.”

Daryl leaned forward a bit, “Does that okay mean that you accept me or that you want me to get out because I disgust you?”

“It means that I don’t understand it, but I still love you and I’ll support you no matter what,” Merle explained.

Merle could literally see the tension leave Daryl’s body along with the woman sitting next to him. Someone who Daryl still needed to explain to him.

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, “Thank you.”

He hadn’t expected Merle to be okay with this at all, but it seems that his brother truly did love him. But he wasn’t done with his brother yet. He was out to him now and Merle had accepted him, but that didn’t explain why Merle never came back for him.

“Picking back up where we left off,” Daryl spoke up, “why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I told you, I was ashamed. I’m even more so ashamed now because of the reason I picked that fight.”

“That’s in the past Merle. I want to know why you didn’t come back fro me after being thrown out.”

Merle sighed and hung his head, “I fell hard, brother. When I failed to raise enough money in the army to help you, I felt like a failure. I couldn’t bare to face you without being able to fulfill my promise to you. So, I found a way to make a lot of money real quick: drugs. I started dealing and knew that within the next six months I’d have enough money to get us both of there.”

“So what happened?”

“I got caught one night. I was going about my normal business, transfering the drugs from the shipping crates they were smuggled over in into bags to be sold on the streets. Next thing I know, the door of the warehouse busts in and a bunch of cops rush in and arrest all of us there. I took a deal of five years behind bars with the possibility of parole in four. It was their best offer, but it broke my heart to not be able to get in touch with you. I tried to call the house as my one phone call, but the lines were disconnected. I didn’t know how to reach you.”

“Yeah, Dad stopped paying the phone bill around the time you left,” Daryl explained, “How much longer do you have in here?”

“Two and a half years if I behave myself, three and a half if I don’t,” Merle revealed.

Daryl bit his lip and nodded, “My guess is the ‘good behavior’ thing hasn’t been working out recently, huh?”

Merle could feel himself getting more nervous. It sounded like Daryl suspected that he’d had something to do with their father’s death.

“Did you do it?” Daryl asked.

Merle froze.

“Do what?” he asked trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Did you kill our father?” he asked again, “Don’t worry, the guards assured me that this conversation is private and I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Oh yeah? What about this lady you got here with you?” Merle challenged him.

“This is Tiana Williams, my adoptive mother. I only started living with them after our father made me miscarry, but she’s been taking care of me ever since I met her daughter, Sasha, at the library. I met them only a few weeks after our father stole my virginity. They both have done a lot to help me come to terms with my gender identity and sexuality.”

“Did she know what was going on?” Merle hissed, becoming defensive.

“No! I hid the truth from them for years,” Daryl stopped him, “They only found out just a little over a week ago what was happening. After the miscarriage, I walked to her house, broke in, and collapsed on her couch. They found me there the next day and got me help.”

“You said she’s been taking care of you, but she didn’t know what was going on. How exactly then did she take care of you?” he asked.

“I took care of him by feeding him when his father forgot to buy groceries. I took care of him by giving him a place to sleep when his father lost his temper and threw him out. I took care of him by buying him special bras to help hide his growing breasts. I took care of him by buying him new clothes and shoes whenever he needed them,” Tiana snapped at Merle.

She was not here to deal with this man questioning her ability to protect Daryl.

“I am taking care of him by seeing that he’s getting the professional help he needs to deal with everything that’s happened to him. I am taking care of him by helping him start the medical portion of his transition. I am taking care of him by adopting him as my son. But above all else, I took care of him by loving him as my own son.”

Merle sat there in shock of the verbal smackdown he’d just received and he could honestly admit that he deserved every word of it. Who was he to talk about protecting Daryl when he got his ass locked up for five years, leaving his baby brother at home alone with a monster.

“So, to answer your question Merle, I will not repeat anything that is said in this room because it could threaten the wellbeing of my son,” she raised her eyebrow challengingly at him.

Merle relented, nodding to admit his defeat.

“So,” Daryl asked again, “did you kill our father?”

“It was a combined effort. As soon as I found out what that son of a bitch did to you, I spread it around the whole prison. Soon enough, everyone was plotting to take him out,” Merle explained, skirting the question. 

“I’ll try again. Are you the one who slit his throat?” Daryl demanded.

Merle realized in this moment that he was not getting out of this one.

“Yes, I am,” Merle admitted, “but it was a group of us who cornered him, held him, and then killed him. I may have been the one to actually do it, but the whole prison conspired to do it. I don’t regret doing it, Daryl.”

Daryl looked like he wanted to cry or scream at him or just simply run away from him.

“I got into a fight with him when he called you a ‘bitch’ within about five minutes of him arriving. Later in solitaire, he described what he did to you in graphic ways. He told me about how he’d raped you when you were still sleeping or with the handle of his knives and that he enjoyed doing it. He told me about getting you pregnant and then forcing you to miscarry. It made me sick and I vowed to kill him for what he’d done to you,” Merle revealed, his voice breaking as he talked about it, “After that night, he wasn’t my father anymore. He was just some monster that had hurt you. I didn’t care who he was, he needed to die.”

Daryl just nodded, not saying a thing. He didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t imagine what hearing all of that stuff must’ve been like for Merle who now blamed himself for not being there when Daryl needed him most.

“Do you hate me for doing it?” Merle asked him quietly.

“No, Merle. I don’t hate you,” Daryl assured him, “I’m just still trying to process everything that’s happened. I mean, it hasn’t even been two weeks since I miscarried. It’s all just too much, too fast. I don’t hate you, but I time to think about it and decide whether or not I need to forgive you.”


	10. The Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s here! :D 
> 
> WARNING: discussions of past rape/non-con

Daryl had left his visit with Merle both relieved and confused. His feelings towards the murder of his father and the role his brother played in it was still fuzzy, but he was happy his brother had accepted him for who he is. Telling Merle that he’s transgender and gay was one of the scariest things he’s ever done because he wasn’t sure if he could’ve survived another blow like that. He’d only just found his brother, to have had him reject him and lost him yesterday would’ve been devastating.

Right now, Daryl was sitting in the car next to Sasha listening to some AC/DC as they made their way to their first dance practice. Daryl had agreed to join only if Sasha was going to go. She’d already planned on going, but was quick to reassure him of that fact. Part of Daryl was eager to meet more queer people, but the other part of his was terrified. What if he was too broken for them to find interesting? He knew that the group was full of domestic abuse survivors and their friends, but he was still nervous.

It felt like no time had passed at all before they were pulling into the parking lot of Sasha’s college’s gym. The dance studio was on the second floor so the two made their way up, both eager and scared to meet the crew. With Daryl’s consent, Sasha had already informed the crew’s director, Jessie Anderson, about what Daryl had been through. She hadn’t needed to tell her all that much though since it had been all over the news recently. All she really needed to tell her was that Daryl is transgender and gay. Daryl wanted this group to accept all of him, just as he was or he had no interest in being apart of it.

The two walked into the dance room and immediately noticed the diversity of the group. There were people from many different ethnic groups present. Daryl hadn’t even know there Asians living in Georgia since he’d never seen one before except on TV. As they looked closer, they noticed other things like how some of them had visible scars on their bodies. One girl had a slash right across her face, going over her eye and across her nose.

That’s when it really hit Daryl that these people understood what he’d endured at the hands of his father. Most of the people in this room were victims of domestic violence of some kind. While the thought was decidedly morbid, he was glad to not be the only abused teen here. He also noticed a large amount of gay pride flags sewn onto their jackets, hats, or backpacks.

One of the guys saw them standing awkwardly in the doorway and started to make his way over to them. He had shortish, floppy brown hair and soft features. Daryl couldn’t decide if his eyes were blue or green as they seemed to be a kaleidoscope of both. He was slightly shorter than Daryl, but slightly taller than Sasha. He was dressed in baggy black sweats and a tight dark green tank top, showing off his lean muscles. He was sporting a bright smile as he made his way over.

“Hi, you two must be our newest recruits. My name’s Paul Rovia, but my friends call me Jesus. It’s your pick,” he greeted them extending his hand towards Sasha.

Sasha shook his hand and then Daryl did too. He could honestly admit that the guy was good looking.

“Why Jesus?” Sasha asked curiously.

“My hair used to be really long and I had a big beard too, which made me look like Jesus. Despite me cutting my hair, the name’s kind of stuck,” he explained, “Not that I cut it by choice, but that’s a story for another time. The more time you spend here, the more you’ll learn about everyone’s individual stories.”

“So everyone here is a domestic abuse survivor?” Daryl questioned.

“Well, no. Some are here because they believe in the cause. Some are here because they know someone who experienced domestic abuse. But it is true that most of our members are abuse survivors themselves. That why the name of our crew is  _ The Survivors _ .”

“Bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Sasha said.

“I guess, but that’s kind of the point. We’re not trying to downplay what we’re dancing for ever. When we do gigs, we want to shout our cause loud and clear. Any money we make from them goes to charities focused on outreach involving domestic abuse victims.”

“Do we have to tell everyone what happened and why we’re here specifically?” Daryl asked concerned that he’d have to tell everyone here his story.

“No. You never have to reveal that if you choose not to. There are times where we have group discussions about things when something major happens that is a potential trigger for some of our members. We’re actually having one today, but you don’t have to come or, if you do come, speak. This is a safe space,” Paul assured him.

“Are you the leader or is Jessica here?” Daryl asked.

“Jessica is our program director. She sets up our gigs, buys our music, stuff like that. She doesn’t dance in or choreograph anything. She is strictly behind the scenes. I’m co-director with my friends Rosita Espinosa and Tara Chamberlain. Together we all come up with the dances, pick the songs appropriate for the gig, and then help you all learn it.”

“So we won’t be seeing a lot of her then?” Sasha clarified.

“No, it will be mainly the people you see here now unless more people join.”

A woman approached Paul from behind and tapped on his shoulder. 

“Hey Jesus,” she said, “We’re ready start when you are. Everyone is anxious to meet our new members.”

“Thank you, Tara,” Paul responded, “Don’t worry. All we ask it that you tell us your names and ages. Everything else about you is for you to reveal at your discretion.”

Paul led them over to a group of people crowded in the middle of the dance floor.

“Everyone,” Paul addressed them, “I’d like for you all to meet our newest members.”

Daryl shifted nervously from one foot to another. He glanced over at Paul and noticed that he was waiting for them to introduce themselves.

“I’m Daryl,” he said, “and I’m fifteen years old.”

“I’m Sasha,” she followed him, “and I’m nineteen years old.”

Everyone smiled and waved at them, welcoming them to the group.

“Thank you,” Paul smiled, “I’m sure you get well acquainted to the rest of our group soon enough, but I always make sure to introduce you to the other co-captains.”

He pointed to a Hispanic woman with long black hair, “That is Rosita Espinosa,” and then to the woman who’d approached him earlier, “And that is Tara Chamberlain.”

“Those are your two other captains. If you ever have questions or need someone to talk to, we’re all happy to help in any way we can.”

The two women smiled at them and waved. With that Paul motioned for them to join the larger group so that they could get started. Some soft music played in the background as they all took their places on the mat. It took Daryl and Sasha a second to figure out what was going on, but the other members were quick to help them.

They began with warmups, getting their bodies ready to dance. Daryl found that he was already breathing a little hard having stopped exercising as much as he used to when his father started, well he didn’t want to think about that right now. He focused on his breathing and following the people around him as he moved. They did this for a good half hour before Paul had decided that they were limber enough to actually start dancing.

“I just want you all to listen to the song first. Listen to the rhythm, not necessarily the lyrics. I want all of us to know all the songs we’re going to be dancing to in our next performance coming up in about a month at Florida’s pride parade.”

Paul walked over to the radio in the corner of the room and put in a CD. It took a few seconds, but soon enough a song Daryl had never heard before started playing from the speakers around the room. He did his best to listen to the rhythm and not the lyrics, but he ended up being caught up in what the woman was saying. It was a powerful song about survival and escaping someone’s dominant hold over them. There weren’t many words but the lyrics that were there spoke to him on levels he’d never experienced before. He found himself lost in the music before he knew what was happening.

“Ready to begin?” Paul asked the group a rhetorical question.

He had never felt so ready to do something in his entire life. He watched Paul and the others with an intensity of focus and peace he hadn’t thought possible. He’d always kind of ignored dance, but it felt good, therapeutic almost as his feet beat against the ground alongside the powerful baseline. Soon enough it was over and he felt an acute sense of disappointment that they were done already. He wanted to keep going, keep moving and letting the music drown out the whirlwind in his head.

“I want to stay, Sasha,” he told her as they drank some water.

“For what?”

“The meeting, I like it here.”

She was unbelievably happy that her idea had worked and that he was actually excited about something again.

“Of course,” she responded, “Let’s go grab a seat.”

Paul smiled as he watched the two join the small group gathering off to the side of the dance studio. A lot of people had left, but many still remained. Paul, Tara, and Rosita being the only three he knew by name.

“Now, I want to remind everyone that this is a safe space. You do not have to share if you don’t want to, but we do want to address what is going on in the media right now,” Paul began.

Daryl started to get a sick feeling in his stomach.

“It has been reported that a man, Will Dixon, has been murdered for being a pedophile. I know that the last time something like this came up in the news, it was your brother, Sierra, that was killed by his inmates and that it caused a lot of distress among us. Many of us in this group still here have been victims, specifically, of domestic sexual violence,” Paul continued on.

Now Daryl really felt like he was going to be sick. He felt Sasha take his hand to ground him. She looked at him, silently asking if he wanted to leave, but he shook his head.

“Many of you know that I was raped many times by many people during my time in the foster care system and that reports of someone else having endured it by their own father makes me sick,” Paul revealed, “I wish I could help the girl who suffered at that man’s hands, but I don’t know who or where she is or how to help her. All I can do is make sure you’re all okay. Anyone have anything they need to talk about?”

It was silent for a few moments as people waiting for others to talk. Daryl himself was struggling to decide if he should tell them it was him or remain quiet.

A young girl next him spoke up, “Hearing them talk about it so dismissively, like the hurt he caused her meant nothing, is painful. It reminds me of how my story was treated in court. Nobody wanted to believe that my father, a stand up lawyer could sexually abuse his wife and daughter. They refused to believe us until they saw the video footage from our home security system showing him raping my mother.”

“If he was black or Hispanic, the media would be bashing him,” a young black boy added, “It’s sad how they’re treating the story. But it’s even more sad that they only treat minority sex offenders like the rapists they are. They treat white rapists like all they needed was some medical treatment and they’d be fine.”

“I agree,” Sierra spoke up, “I hate it that the media are saying things like ‘father of two sexually assaulted a minor.’ It’s like they’re trying to hide how horrible the man was. He didn’t go after her once, though even that is despicable, he abused her for years. Hell, they make it sound like it was some random kid, not his own daughter. They barely even mention the daughter’s suffering all while they debate ‘what could’ve turned a family man into a rapist? It’s disgusting.’”

“He never was a ‘family man,’” Daryl said quietly, not looking at anyone.

The voices died down around him as they waited for him to elaborate.

“My full name is Daryl Dixon, but I’m transgender, meaning I was born a girl,” he revealed speaking quietly, “Will Dixon is my father and I’m the kid they’re talking about on the news.”

Shocked gasps echoed around the group as everyone processed what he’d said.

“Daryl, I am so sorry,” Paul immediately spoke feeling really bad now for bringing this all up, “we can stop talking about this if you want?”

“Nah, it’s nice to know that I’m not alone,” he whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sasha pulled him sideways against her and held him there while the rest of the people smiled softly at him.

“I don’t want to talk about what he did to me, but Sierra, you mentioned your brother was killed in prison for hurting you?” Daryl asked.

“Yeah, he wasn’t in there more than five weeks before the inmates found out what he did to me and killed him,” Sierra responded.

“Did you ever feel guilty? Like you’d somehow caused his death by turning him in? That it’s your fault?”

“I did, yes. But then I immediately felt ashamed for feeling guilty because my brother had repeatedly molested me. It’s taken me a long time to get over that sense of guilt for his death.”

An older black guy spoke up, “I felt the same way after my mother shot and killed my dad when she found out he was molesting me. She’s in jail now for murdering him, which I think is totally wrong. I always have this sense of guilt that it’s my fault she lost it and killed him. His actions ruined our family and my mom’s life.”

More and more people started speaking up about how much guilt they felt when the truth finally came to light.

Tara explained that her girlfriend’s brother had gone after her when she was sixteen when he was staying over at her house one night while her parents were out of town. She’d tried to call out for her girlfriend only for him to tell her he’d killed her to stop her from rescuing her. After the ordeal was over, she’d called the police and they’d arrested him. He’d then hung himself in his cell before he could be sentenced. She explained how much guilt she felt over surviving it while her girlfriend hadn’t. She talked about feeling suicidal herself for a long while after and that it was Paul and Rosita who’d pulled her through along with a lot of therapy.

Rosita explained that she wasn’t here because she was a victim, but because her sister had been. Her sister’s husband had been a violent, horrible man who took her by force and beat her. Her sister had denied needing help to the point of her death at his hands last year. He’d called the police and then shot himself. She talked about the guilt she felt for not stepping in despite her sister telling her not to. She wishes to this day that she’d ignored her sister’s protests and turned him in.

Daryl nodded, it’s nice to know that his feeling were felt by others. Looking around this circle of people, he didn’t feel alone anymore. Paul was the only one who didn’t say anything about his experiences during the discussion. Instead he focused on guiding the conversation and helping everyone there feel at ease. Daryl wondered if he was going to school to be a psychologist or something like that.

Eventually the group started breaking up with people have other places to be. On his and Sasha’s way out, he turned back and caught Paul’s eye who just smiled and waved at him. Daryl smiled back before walking out of the door. He was curious about Paul’s story and why he hadn’t talked about anything he might’ve been feeling. He may have been the leader of the discussion, but that didn’t mean he should keep all of his emotions locked away.


	11. Back to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl’s first day back at school
> 
> WARNING: attempted rape/non-con

Daryl was dreading going back to school today. He wished he was back in the dance studio with Paul, Rosita, and Tara losing himself in the music. He was terrified of what he was going to encounter once he stepped through those doors. He could hear Sasha in the back of his head telling him everything was going to be fine, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach that was telling him otherwise.

“If you need anything or it becomes too much, just call me okay?” Tana told him as she pulled up to the curb in front of the school.

“Do I really have to go?” he asked one more time to see if her response would change.

“Daryl, I know this is going to be hard, but you can’t let what happened define the rest of your life. If you want to get a job anywhere you need to graduate,” she explained.

She really didn’t want to have to send him back to school, but he couldn’t afford to miss anymore days. He’d already miss two weeks of classes. The district promised not to hold him back because of his absences due to the circumstances, but they couldn’t do anything to stop it if he failed his classes.

She had toyed with the idea of homeschooling him, but it would cut into the number of hours she could work and as a single mom raising two kids now, they needed that money. Paying for Daryl’s hormone treatment had pushed her beyond what she could handle working a decreased number of hours. She had to work at least 40 hours a week now in order to cover all of the expenses of raising two children. She was never going to tell Daryl that, however, because then he would insist on stopping the treatment until he could pay for it and she wouldn’t let him do that. She loved him too much to do that to him.

Daryl begrudgingly got out of the car and made his way into the building, keeping his head down the entire time. He knew he looked different because of the haircut and he hoped it would be enough to get him to his first class without being noticed. That hope was short lived as he felt eyes on him as soon as he entered the building. He could hear people whispering about him and his father and about his new haircut.

_“I’ll bet her father cut it off as a punishment for getting pregnant,” one girl told her friend._

_“She should be happy she’s seen any action at all,” one boy sneered, “She’s one of the ugliest girls here. I mean, she’s got almost no boobs at all. She’s even uglier now that she’s got that stupid haircut.”_

_“I heard she’s living with those niggers on the edge of town,” someone whispered as he walked by, “the Williams. I’ll bet she’s sick of fried chicken by now.”_

Daryl wanted to hurt all of them, slam them up against their lockers and punch the shit out of them, but he didn’t want to draw anymore attention to himself. His heart ached every time he heard someone misgender him. He’d almost forgotten how much it hurt since he’d been pretty safe from it for a few days now. Part of him wished he was out, but the smarter half of him reminded him what the kids here normally did to LGBT people. The last time someone had tried coming out at this school as gay the other students shut him up in the art supplies room and left him there for the entire school day. Nobody even knew he was gone until the janitor was making a last sweep of the school before leaving and heard something fall in the closet and found him.

He kept his head down until he got to his first class and took his normal seat in the back of the classroom, pulling his hood up over his head to hide until class started. The teacher’s voice reminding him to put his hood down was the only thing that got him to do it. Throughout the entire class people kept whispering about him. Making comments about his father and him and the nature of their relationship. Some thought he’d wanted it at first and then decided to turn him in for attention, some thought he was telling the truth and pitied him, while some more perverted people wondered what it was like to have sex with him.

As the day wore on the comments made about him and his father’s sexual relationship grew more and more grotesque among those wanting to know what he was like in bed. He did his best to block out the images in his head as they talked, not even attempting to hide from him what they were talking about. He went into the girls bathroom and hid in one of the stalls to catch his breath for a few minutes when it all started to become too much. He refused to call Tiana to come get him though since he knew now that she’d adopted him she needed more money than ever.

The day felt like it dragged on forever as he tried not to listen to all the gossip around him or the slurs thrown his way. A lot of people called him a slut or a whore for having sex with his father despite it being mention that the act was non-consensual on his part. He was ready to bust through those front door and go home, but he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were getting to him. Instead he just ducked his head and did his best to ignore them.

The final bell rang at last and Daryl felt relief wash over him. He’d made it through his first day back. He knew that he’d just have to take things one day at a time until the news about his father became old and something new caught their attention. He didn’t rush to leave though, not wanting to be stuck inside a mob of his classmates. He stayed inside his last classroom waiting for the halls to clear. He startled when he heard the door open and in walked Spencer Monroe, a senior and the high school’s golden boy. Daryl didn’t try to talk to the boy, he just hoped he’d grab whatever he came for and leave.

“Darla,” he grinned, “just the person I was looking for.”

His tone sent that bad feeling in the pit of his stomach ablaze once again.

“What do you want, Monroe?” he snapped back at him.

“Nothing much, I just want to know what is was like,” he spoke calmly, but with an underlying menacing quality that sent shivers down Daryl’s spine.

The whole time Spencer has been slowly making his way towards him. Daryl stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, ready to bolt.

“What are you talking about?” he asked slowly shifted to the side, only to have Spencer copy his movement.

Daryl knew he was trying to corner him somehow, but for what reason he wasn’t sure. It was real fast, but for a split second it wasn’t Spencer standing in front of him, it was his father. That alone made him want to curl up into a ball and never get back up. He was shaken by the sudden backflash and forgot what was going on for a second. Spencer noticed this sudden shift and used it to his advantage. He picked up the pace and before Daryl knew it, he was standing right in front of him. Daryl felt his mouth go dry as Spencer looked down at him. There was a fire in his eyes similar to that of his father’s and it made his mind go blank.

“I want to know what it feels like to be inside someone so broken, so used. I kind of like sloppy seconds,” he hissed, “virgins are boring. I like girls with experience.”

Daryl could feel his throat closing up as fear settled in his bones as Spencer advanced on him, shoving him against a wall. Spencer pressed his body against him making Daryl shudder, which made Spencer grin. He could feel himself getting wet, not from arousal, but from a conditioned bodily response to keep whatever his father did to him from hurting as bad as it did the first few times.

“Go ahead and beg me to let you go, the school should be empty for the most part and I like it when my partners beg,” he whispered against Daryl’s ear.

Daryl whimpered and tried to squirm away. To him it wasn’t Spencer anymore, it was his father pressing him against the wall. When he looked up he didn’t see Spencer’s brown eyes, but his father’s menacing blue ones. There was a difference, however, between the father he knew and this one. This one’s eyes were open but unseeing and there was a slash across his neck, blood pouring down his shirt.

Daryl screamed at the sight, begging for someone to come save him. His voice cracked as he yelled. Under normal circumstances it would’ve excited Daryl because it indicates that his voice is starting to change, but right now all he could think about was the weight against his chest and the fingers groping between his legs. He felt his father’s hands slip underneath his pants and underwear and push inside him.

“So wet,” his father hissed in his ear, “You sure you don’t want this? Because this response says you do.”

He screamed again and clawed at him, desperate to break free. His attacker’s response was to capture his wrists and hold them above his head. The fingers started moving in and out of him and he screamed out for help again. As he cried out, another mouth covered his, kissing him. His father had never kissed him before.

That move had his eyes shooting open and looking at the person in front of him. Instead of his father, he saw Spencer and it reminded him of where he was. He bit down on Spencer’s lip, drawing blood, forcing him to stop kissing him. He started yelling, begging for someone to help him. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head and his legs shook as Spencer curled his fingers and touched something inside of him his father had never reached. He moaned loudly, it felt so good, but he still wanted to throw up because this wasn’t wanted.

The thought he heard a shout and the next thing he knew Spencer had pulled his fingers out of him and he was falling. He collapsed onto the ground ungracefully, eyes wild and breathing rapid. He pulled his feet up to his chest and hid his head behind them, curling up in a protective position. He heard shouts of pain and two angry male voices. His head was too cloudy to understand what they were saying, but he hoped one of them was here to save him.

He prayed it wasn’t like the time his father had brought one of his friends over and let him have a go at him. The man was dead now, overdosed on drugs, or Daryl would’ve turned him in too. Other than that man and his father, those were only people who’d ever touched him until today. He could feel himself crying as he waited for the outcome of whatever was going on in front of him. He finally heard the sound of someone running away, leaving only one of the two guys in the room with him.

He heard the man say something, but he didn’t know what. The next thing he knew, a hand was softly touching his leg. He flinched violently away from the touch, trying really hard to become one with the brick wall behind him.

“Don’t!” he cried lifting his head and expecting to see Spencer.

But instead he was met with striking green-blue eyes, floppy brown hair, and a concerned expression. There, kneeling in front of him, was Paul Rovia from the dance crew. Daryl had no idea what the man was doing there but he was so happy to see him.

“Daryl,” he asked, voice conveying nothing but concern for him, “Are you okay?”

“Paul?” he breathed kind of not believing what he was seeing.

“Yeah, it’s me. I was going to accept a job offer to teach martial arts to kids after school when I heard someone scream and found that boy...”

“Spencer,” Daryl told him, practically choking on the words, “He wanted to know what it was like to be with someone so used, _so experienced._ ”

Paul face contorted with disgust as Daryl explained what had gone down between them.

“I knew immediately that something was off, but I had a flashback to my father and the next thing I knew I was helpless. It was like I was froze there, unable to defend myself,” he explained, hating himself for letting it get that far.

“It’s not your fault. That happens to a lot of people who are victims of violence. When it happens again, they freeze up and can’t run or fight no matter how badly they want to,” he spoke as if from experience, “Even if on a normal day they can knock someone twice their size and weight flat on their ass.”

“You say that like you know what you’re talking about,” Daryl commented.

Paul looked him in the eye and admitted, “I do. I know exactly what that feels like. To be unable to defend yourself. It’s almost like you’re watching it happen to yourself from behind a movie screen.”

Daryl nodded, “I saw my father until he kissed me. That’s what broke the flashback for me. My father never kissed me, that was the one thing he never took away from me, my first kiss. But, I guess, Spencer just took that one anyway.”

Paul looked at him with sad eyes, like he knew what he was talking about. Hell, he’d heard some of Paul story at the dance group, he probably did know what he was talking about.

Daryl breathed out a sigh of pain, “Every first that’s supposed to be magical and full of love has been taken from me in some violent form or another.”

“Not everything,” Paul whispered.

Daryl looked at him incredulously, “Really? My father stole my virginity and now Spencer’s stolen my first kiss. What else is left?”

“Your first love,” Paul explained, “Your first date. Your first romantic dance with the one you love.”

Daryl smiled at him, “That all sounds really nice. Is it?”

Paul shrugged, “I wouldn't know. I’ve not had those three happen to me yet. Right now, I’m still the same as you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Waiting for my first time to enjoy real, true love.”

Daryl smiled sadly at Paul, but he was glad that he wasn’t alone in this moment.

“Come with me,” Paul said firmly standing up.

“Why?” he asked following Paul’s lead.

“We need to go report this. Only god knows how many other people he’s done this to.”

Daryl nodded in defeat knowing it was the right thing to do, “Sure, let’s go make me even more of a target here.”

“Why don’t you change schools?”

“There aren’t any other public school nearby and I can’t ask Tiana to do anything else for me. I have to stay here until I graduate. Eventually all of this will become old news and I’ll be able to move on. Hopefully to somewhere that it’s safe for me to be myself. Someplace that won’t attack me for being gay and transgender.”

“There might be someplace you can go.”

“Where?”

Daryl was eager to know about anyplace better than here.

“There’s a homeschool co-op group that meets in the town hall. It’s just like a normal school and it’s completely free, funded totally by the owners. They were dissatisfied by the public schools in the area, so they decided to open a charter school that student who don’t fit into the offered public schools can go to.”

“Who’s behind it?”

“Maggie and Glenn Rhee. Glenn is the principal of the school, so to speak, while Maggie is CEO of Greene banks, a position she inherited from her father. The couple is young very young and have no children of their own yet, but they saw a need in this community and are happy to fulfill it. I wish that school would’ve been open when I was in high school,” Paul explained.

Honestly, the whole thing sounded too good to be true, but Daryl needed to look into it. After reporting the golden boy Spencer for sexual assault, he was going to be public enemy number one around here. The two walked into the main office, Paul’s original destination, and approached the desk. They were told to have a seat and that the principal would be with them soon. The two sat quietly in the lobby until the principal open his office door and invited the two in.

“Mr. Rovia, I was expecting you, but I wasn’t anticipating on you having a friend with you,” the principal, Mr. Lewis, said.

“Neither was I, but before we talk about the position you offered me, there is something else that needs to be brought to your attention,” Paul said motioning to Daryl.

Paul proceeded to tell Mr. Lewis what he had witnessed and heard on his way to the office. The more he told him, the more angry Mr. Lewis became. He pulled out a form and began writing away on it. He had Daryl tell him his side of the story before folding it up and placing it inside his desk.

“I will meet with him tomorrow and talk about this. I’ll also have the school’s security tapes reviewed to see if Mr. Walsh did actually follow you into that room. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, because I do, but Mr. Monroe’s parents are important figures in this community and will want more proof than your word.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” Paul said, “As for that job position as a martial arts instructor, I’ll take it.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Mr. Lewis said clapping his hands, “At least this meeting can end on a positive note. I’ll see you both very soon, good-bye.”

The two wished him good-bye and left. Daryl felt sick that he’d had to report another person for sexually assaulting him. He’d thought it was over now that his father was dead, but it seemed that unwanted sexual encounters were a pattern in his life. Unfortunately, he thought, it’s a common thread for a lot of young women.

That phrase trigger something in his head and he let out an audible breath in response.

“What?” Paul asked curiously, but with an edge of worry considering what had just happened.

“My voice,” he said, “It cracked today when I was calling out for help. My voice is starting to change.”

“Not the best moment to notice it, but it’s a great thing nonetheless,” Paul said, feeling genuinely happy for him.

Daryl smiled up at Paul, “Thanks for saving me today.”

“No problem. You good to walk back home?” Paul asked him as they exited the building.

“Yeah, it’s only a fifteen minute walk from here. I’ve walked farther in worse condition,” he said remembering the walk from his house to Sasha’s after miscarrying.

Paul winced at that, but didn’t say anything or ask about it much to Daryl’s relief.

“I’ll see you on Saturday then?” Paul said turning to him slightly.

“Yeah, I wish I could take that defense class. But if I’m leaving this school, I won’t be able to attend.”

“I could give you and maybe Sasha private lessons after dance if you want.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much! I think it’s time I learned how to get these creeps away from me before they can back me into a corner.”

Paul nodded, smiling at him, “It’s a great place to start.”


	12. Counseling

Daryl shifted nervously in the plush brown chair he was sitting in, waiting to be called back for his first counseling appointment with Michonne Grimes. Tiana was sitting in the chair next to him reading a magazine. Daryl was too nervous to do anything except sit there and tap his foot on the floor. He’d told her and Sasha about what had happened at school and Tiana made the decision to pull him out of school that day. He hadn’t gone to school today and they had a meeting scheduled tomorrow with that homeschool group that Paul had told him about.

Part of him was happy to be leaving his old school, but it made him feel like an even bigger burden on Tiana since now she was going to have to drive him to school every morning. She doesn’t normally do that. She’d only done it yesterday to make sure he actually went since he was so against going back. This new school was a forty-five minute walk for him, so there was no way he was going to be able to do that every day.

A tall black woman with long dreadlocks came out into the lobby and called his name. He didn’t know if that was Michonne or a secretary or something, but he followed her back. Tiana waved at him encouragingly as he left. The woman led him into an office and told him to sit down in one of the comfy chairs across from what he assumed was Michonne’s desk. The woman sat down across from him and smiled.

“Hello, I’m Michonne Grimes,” she confirmed, “and you must be Daryl.”

Daryl nodded, too nervous to speak. He knew that Dr. Peletier had recommended her and she was calling him by his real name, but he still didn’t know if he could trust her. Recent events have proved to him that even when he thinks he’s safe, he isn’t.

“I can understand you apprehension,” she continued when he didn’t say anything, “ I usually like to start my first session with a new client with tell them a little bit about myself and how I work. I want to be clear, first of all, that I do not know what it is like to be sexually abused. I am here to be someone for you to talk to about it and help you work through your thoughts and feelings about it. I know a little bit about abuse since I had a few physically abusive foster homes towards the beginning before I found my forever family. I’m married now and I have two step-kids. Anything you’d like to tell me about yourself?”

Daryl knew that she was trying to get him to start opening up, but he still didn’t fully trust her. He decided to give her basic facts about him, but nothing too deep.

“I’m fifteen. I’m transgender and gay. I’ve been sexually abused since I was thirteen and physically abused my whole life. I live with my best friend and her mother, who’s adopted me.”

Michonne nodded, “Has that abuse left anything behind that affects your everyday interactions with people?”

“It’s easy to see from the scars on my back so I don’t really wear anything that would show my back. I’m not comfortable with physical touch unless it’s from someone I trust completely or I initiate it.”

“This fear of physical touch, is it solely from what happened with your father or is there more to it? I know that your transgender and they often struggle with some aspects of touch.”

“No, I don’t like it when people hug me because when they do I can feel them pressing up against my chest and it reminds me that I have breasts.”

“Do you think that it will get better once you get your top surgery or no?”

Daryl shifted back in his seat, getting more comfortable, “I don’t know. I’ve never really be hugged until after I started to realize that I wasn’t a girl.”

“Never?”

“My parents weren’t big on physical intimacy. Tiana and Sasha are really the first people to want to touch me with kind hands. At first it made me uncomfortable because I didn’t understand what they were trying to do, I thought they were going to hurt me, but now I like it when they touch me. I often seek it out, actually.”

“That’s a very natural thing. As human beings we need kind, physical touch in order to develop properly. We need it just as much as we need food, water, and shelter,” she explained, “Without it we can become very depressed.”

“I keep trying to become more comfortable with it, but it seems every time I take a step forward, I’m shoved five steps back.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t like people trying to touch my legs or waist because of what my father did to me, but I joined a dance group with my sister Sasha and when we were dancing, it didn’t bother me as much. I felt safe as I moved to the music. Now, however, I’m scared I won’t even be okay with that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, at first it was only my father who sexually abused me, but after what happened at school...” he paused, not wanting to continue.

“What happened at school Daryl?” she prompted softly, “You need to talk about it.”

Daryl took a deep breath before starting, “One of the older students at my school cornered me after school and backed me up against a well. He shoved his hands down my pants, ignoring my protests. He kissed me to keep from yelling. He fully intended to rape me, I know a lustful look when I see one thanks to my father, but Paul stopped him.”

“So now you’re scared that one of your peers will sexually abuse you because this student shattered the idea that only your father, an adult male, wanted to hurt you that way.”

Daryl nodded, “I can’t even trust people my own age.”

“That’s a difficult thing to lose, the trust of one's own classmates. Who is Paul?”

Daryl found himself smiling lightly, “He’s one of the dance groups main leaders. He heard me screaming and found me. He scared Spencer off and stayed with me while I recovered. While we were talking, we connected on our shared understanding that powerless feeling that I had when Spencer cornered me.”

“It sounds like he might be someone you want to attach yourself to. If he understands what you’re going through, having him as a mentor or even just as a friend could help you immensely.”

“I know. That whole group makes me feel less alone and more able to be myself. I really like it there with them.”

“It’s a great thing that you’ve found a safe space. Are you out to them?”

“Yeah, I told them that I was transgender that first day. It’s an openly LGBT accepting group and I’m so tired of hiding. I wish I could be out everywhere I go.”

“I wish you could too, but I fear soon enough you won’t have a choice,” she said, “Your voice is starting to crack more and more as it grows deeper. This part of your transition seems to be going better than normal which means you’ll most likely end up with a very distinctly masculine voice.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, I really do believe that your voice is going to be very masculine, especially if you practice speaking at a lower register.”

“I wish getting rid of my breasts was as simple as making my voice deeper. I want them gone now, but there is no way I can afford to do that,” he sighed, picturing the chest he wished he had.

“I know. A lot of transgender men long for that and I’ve found the best way to combat that extreme longing is by working towards it, literally. I think, as soon as you turn sixteen, you should look at getting a job so that you can start saving up for it. If you know you’re actively working towards your goal, maybe it’ll help the idea feel less like a dream.”

“I guess I could try getting a job down at Dale’s Auto Shop. I know a lot about cars thanks to my brother and his laziness. He taught me how to fix his truck and motorcycle so that when it broke he could bribe me into doing it for him.”

Michonne smiled at his story, “I know that your brother is suspected to be involved with the murder of your father. How do you feel about that?”

The lighthearted tone dropped out of the atmosphere with that question. Daryl still wasn’t sure what he thought of his brother involvement and he knew more than Michonne. He knew that his brother was the one to end his father’s life, no questions about it.

“I don’t know, that whole situation gives me a headache everytime I try to think about it,” he explained.

“Can you try to explain it a bit out loud? Sometimes talking about something out loud can help you process it.”

“I can try,” Daryl relented, “It really starts with the fact that my father was murdered at all. I feel guilt for his head, but I’m also happy he’s dead. That makes me either insane, evil or both, right?”

“No, Daryl. It doesn’t. Not knowing how to feel about a situation like this one is very normal. Why do you feel the guilt? You didn’t kill him.”

“I feel guilty because I’m the one who put him in there.”

“He sent himself there Daryl.”

“No he didn’t. I’m the one who turned him in and sent him to his death. That makes his death partially my fault.”

Michonne sighed internally out of sadness for the pain this teen was going through. Nobody is equipped to deal with feeling guilt over the death of a parent, let alone a parent that abused them which throws another huge wrinkle into the emotional pile.

“He went to jail because he raped you. He went to jail because of his actions, not because of you,” she tried to reason with him.

“Even if that’s so, I felt joy when I heard that he was dead for the first time,” he whispered, “I felt  _ joy _ , real joy. It means he’ll never get me again, but I shouldn’t feel glad someone is dead, especially since it’s my father.”

“You shouldn’t hate yourself because you felt relief at his death. You were reacting not to the death of your father, but of your rapist. Your father died the moment he touched you against your will. No real father would ever do that to a child, let alone his own son,” she explained, “In your heart you still see him as your father, but your brain is interpreting him as your rapist, which is where this conflict is coming from--a war between mourning your father and being relieved over the death of your rapist. It’s okay if you feel both.”

“It doesn’t make me a monster?”

“No, it makes you human. If you only hated him, you’d have totally forgotten that he was once a human being. By feeling both guilt and relief shows that while you hate what he did to you, you recognize that he was still a living person. It means that you have a kind, compassionate heart, something you should never be ashamed of.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive my brother though. Hell, I don’t even know if I need to.”

“Forgive him for what?”

“What if my brother was the one who killed my father?” Daryl asked, “I can’t decide if I need to forgive him for his potential involvement or if I should resent him for murdering my father.”

“I think you’re running into the same problem,” she responded, “Would Merle have killed him for being your father or for raping you?”

“For raping me.”

“So who would he have been killing when he did it?”

“My rapist.”

“Exactly,” she explained, “Merle, if he is the one who did it, wasn’t seeing your father when he killed him. He was looking at the man who raped his little brother. Who the man was didn’t matter in that moment. It only mattered that he’d hurt you. So, the question you need to ask yourself is do I have to forgive my brother for killing my rapist?”

“No,” he decided, “I’m glad my rapist can never reach me ever again.”

“By separating your father from the version of him who hurt you, you’re about to mourn what could’ve been while leaving behind what was.”

Michonne glanced at the clock and noticed that their time was up. Daryl followed her line of sight and noticed the same thing. He hadn’t noticed that their time had gone by so fast.

“Thank you for your help, Michonne,” he said standing up.

“You’re welcome,” she said smiling at him, “I’ll see you next week. Have a nice day.”

“You too,” he said and smiled at her before leaving.

It felt good to have all of that off his chest and with someone literally bound by law to not reveal any of what he told her. It was a good feeling to have the ability to talk to someone removed from the situation that still accepted him for who he is. He is very glad that Dr. Peletier had recommended Michonne to be his counselor.


	13. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Sasha’s first performance at the pride parade.
> 
> Link to one of their dance routines: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TDqd5jqlL4I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all, I’m back. I’be had a really difficult past few weeks between my family life and work and just haven’t had the energy to write. But, the end of my parents long divorce is finally in sight and my mood has been picking up again. So, here is the next chapter for this story.
> 
> Enjoy!

Daryl felt his anxiety rising as he and Tiana walked into the main building for the homeschool co-op group that Paul had told them about. It looked exactly like a normal school building, except for the posters reminding him it was a community gathering space hung everywhere. They were allowed to have school here in certain rooms during the day, but many other activities and meetings took place there in the afternoon. He was worried that Paul had been wrong and that these people weren’t going to be accepting of him. They were on their way to meet Mr. Rhee, the “principal” of the school. He wasn’t an official principal because this wasn’t an actual public school. He was just the guy in charge of running the co-op on a day to day basis.

“Good morning,” a young asian man called out to them.

Based on Paul’s description, he was certain that this was Mr. Rhee. After all, there weren’t a ton of asians to be found around here. He had black hair that was combed back neatly and he was wearing fairly casual clothing for a principal. Daryl wondered just how laid back this school was if the principal was comfortable wearing a t-shirt and jeans to work.

“Morning,” Tiana resoponded, “Are you Mr. Rhee?”

“Yes, but please call me Glenn. We’re not huge on formality here,” Glen said as he held out his hand for her to take.

She took it and shook it firmly, smiling brightly at the man.

“I’m Tiana Williams and this is my adopted son, Daryl Dixon,” she introduced him.

“Nice to meet you Daryl,” Glenn said reaching his hand out to shake Daryl’s hand.

Following Tiana’s example, he accepted the handshake. He didn’t normally allow strangers to come into contact with him at all if he could help it, but he knew he needed to be polite. He didn’t get any bad feelings from Glenn, but he could never be too sure.

“Please, step into the room I use as my office while I’m here,” Glen said as he led them into a small room holding just a basic desk set-up and two visitor chairs.

Daryl and Tiana sat down across from Glenn so that they could get down to talking about what they were here to discuss.

“So,” Tiana began, not one to beat around the bush with formalities, “how exactly does this school operate?”

“We hold a series of classes two days out of the week and then the students are expected to complete all of the homework given to them over the rest of the week until we meet again,” Glenn explained.

“Why not meet everyday like a normal school?”

“We can’t do that because most of our teachers are parents of our other students or local paid volunteers who have other jobs. Based on the classes he chooses to take, he might be here only one day a week.”

“Surely you can’t supply all of the required courses in that time?”

“So far, we’ve had no trouble with getting all of our students to meet the required graduation requirements. It’s true that we don’t offer many specialized courses, but we do have a relationship with some people outside of the school who might be willing to train them in other things in one-on-one sessions some other time during the week.”

“What kinds of things?” Daryl asked.

“Well, one of my good friends runs a mechanics shop downtown and he’s always happy to take on apprentices. My wife has a good relationship with a hair stylist who’s willing to teach students how to do hair. There are a couple guys even willing to show students what a day in the life of a police officer is like or a lawyer.”

“That’s cool. Do you think the mechanic would be willing to take me on if I have a way to get there?”

“Of course, he just had a student graduate, so I’m sure he’d be happy to fill that slot,” Glenn smiled.

“I know Daryl’s friend said that this place is LGBT friendly, is that true?” Tiana asked.

Glenn blinked, “Yeah, a lot of our students are LGBT. In fact, we’re sought out by LGBT student who don’t feel welcome in traditional schools. We have a few students who drive an hour to get here two days a week because they can’t be themselves at their normal school.”   
“So nobody here will care that I’m transgender and gay?” Daryl challenged, it all sounded too good to be true.

“Well, I can’t guarantee there aren’t some assholes here, but any issues can be taken up with me and they will be dealt with. We don’t allow bullying here and our policies towards it are very strict. We actually find, however, that most bullies who try to go after LGBT students find  _ themselves _ outcasted from the student body since most of our students are LGBT or, at the very least, are pro-LGBT.”

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief at Glenn’s assurances. It would be nice to be in a community of people with whom be could be himself and not have to deal with being misgendered all day. He was still skeptical of how true this was, but he felt in his gut that Glenn was being honest. He needed this win anyway, he needed a win desperately right now.

They continued to talk about the transfer process and scheduling of courses. Glenn assured them he’d do his best to get him into classes that would make sense based on what he’d been enrolled in at his old school. When he was asked why the sudden change, he was vague about it. He just went with the half truth was he was tired of being misgendered and having to stay in the closet. The real reason was the sexual assault he’d experienced at the hands of Spencer, but he didn’t really want that to be public knowledge.

They’d received word just yesterday that Spencer had been expelled, but the reason why hadn’t been made public officially. They both knew, however, that rumors about his involvement in the golden boy’s expulsion were going to be flying around the town soon enough. He was really tired of his life being fuel for the town gossip.

* * *

It has been a few weeks since he’d started going to the co-op group, a few weeks since his counseling sessions had started, and a month since he’d joined his dance group; he was feeling much better. He’d even made a few tentative friendships with some of the students in his classes. He was scheduled to start helping out at Dale’s garage next week and he was really looking forward to it. Today, however, he was sitting on a bus with rest of “The Survivors” on their way to Florida’s pride parade where they were set to perform. They’d been hired as the backup dancers to the rising young popstar Enid Nacon.

They were going to perform while she sang for a few songs and then, while she rested her voice, they would perform their own routines on her float. She had a few solo songs so that they could rest, but they’d just keep repeating their routine until the parade was over. It was a massive affair and they’d been told that even after the parade was over, they’d run through their set one last time before ending. This way people at the end could have a full on concert experience. People could choose which float to gather around as they celebrated pride.

“Who’s ready to dance their ass off?” Paul said as he swung around on his bus seat to talk to the crew.

Daryl rolled his eyes and smiled at Paul’s over enthusiastic grin. The man loved dance more than anything else. He knew now that Paul was majoring in dance and performing arts just like Sasha.

“I know I am,” Tara called from her seat at the back of the bus.

A bunch of the other crew members echoed her sentiment. Daryl turned around to look at his fellow dance crew members. The bus was a kaleidoscope of many different colors thanks to the outfits they were wearing for the pride parade. Everyone had a shirt on that matched their sexuality or gender identity.

Anyone who was straight and cisgender or simply wasn’t ready to come out had on a white t-shirt and wore a black vest with a rainbow flag on the back. Tara and Sasha were wearing t-shirts colored like the lesbian pride flag. Paul was wearing a full-on rainbow t-shirt. Rosita has on a bisexual flag shirt. Daryl had a choice between a rainbow t-shirt or a transgender flag shirt. In the end, he’d picked the transgender one since only he and another girl were transgender in the crew. There were also non-binary flag shirts, asexual/demisexual flag shirts, and pansexual flag shirts.

Daryl was more selective about when he spoke at the moment since his voice was changing. He was super excited about it, but it also sounded weird at the moment. He never knew when his voice was going to crack and he didn’t want to assault people's’ eardrums in such an enclosed area. He talked a lot more at home hoping to help the process along, but right now his throat felt particularly scratchy.

“Are you excited about our dance, Daryl?” Paul asked him.

They had a solo dance together during one of their songs today. At first he’d been skeptical that he’d been given a woman’s part, but quickly realized that people were paired up by their sexuality rather than by tradition. 

“Yeah,” Daryl smiled at him.

He and Paul have grown a lot closer since the incident with Spencer at school. It often felt like Paul was protective of him, constantly checking to make sure he was okay. They’d started their self-defense lessons and both he and Sasha were improving quickly.

“You’re not nervous at all?” Paul asked.

“I guess I am, but I think I’m more excited. The nerves might kick in later once I see the crowd.”

“Yeah, that’s how it normally works for me, too. But we’ll be on a float above the crowd, so it shouldn’t be as bad.”

Paul has yet to tell him more about his past. He only knows the basics. He was raped and abused in multiples foster homes. He was thrown out of multiple houses for being openly gay.

He never found his forever family and left the system on his own when he was 18. He was homeless for four months before getting a job at the local community center as a dance instructor for disabled students. He’d finally been able to rent a shitty apartment in the shadiest part of town, but it was enough.

One of his friends at the community center urged him to apply to the nearby college and he did. He also applied for hundreds of scholarships and managed to earn enough of them that, with the help of financial aid, he didn’t have to pay them a dime. He bought an old shit car to get him to school everyday and he just kept on working.

Eventually, Jessica, program director of this dance group—which he’d joined during his freshman year—found out about his living situation and offered to pay for him to live in a dorm on-campus as long he agreed to become a director here and take a pay cut. Paul accepted since he could always just eat at the school’s cafeterias with his meal plan. He really only needed gas money, enough to buy a few snacks and his personal hygiene products. Ever since, that’s exactly what he’s been doing, taking a decreased wage so that Jessica could continue to afford to provide housing for him.

Daryl figures crowds gave him anxiety for the same reasons they gave him anxiety. The idea of not knowing if someone in that crowd wants to hurt you. That plus his fear of not being able to run if he needs to.

* * *

They finally were on the float and headed to the parade. Daryl could feel his nerves rising as he heard the crowd yelling and carrying on as each float went by. It was really hot out, even hotter than what he was used to in Georgia, but he’d be okay. They had plenty of water nearby for in between dances.

Their song line-up today is “Girls like Girls” by Hayley Kiyoko, “Born this Way” by Lady Gaga and “Say Amen” by Panic at the Disco. They also had a special song prepared just for the concert portion later tonight, “Survivor” by 2WEI, a remix of another song. It would be dark out by then and they planned on using that darkness to their advantage. Daryl and Paul have a solo dance together in “Born this Way” whirl Sasha has a solo dance with Tara during “Girls like Girls.”

At first they’d both protested being put in the spotlight, but Paul told them they always let the newest members shine during their first performances.

Daryl has spent a lot of time practicing his solo routine with Paul and it had brought them even closer than the self-defense classes already had. Daryl knew he was starting to feel something for Paul beyond friendship, but he wasn’t sure what it was. It was something he wasn’t familiar with, but he was too afraid to let it go or investigate it.

He felt someone come up behind him and he jump away out of habit.

“Whoa,” came Paul’s voice,” I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” Daryl replied shaking the fear from his head, “It’s a force of habit.”

Paul frowned at him, “You know, that’s not exactly a comforting statement.”

“I know,” Daryl shrugged, “but it’s the truth.”

“Well, we’re not going to think about any of that right now. It’s time to let ourselves be free and dance,” Paul smiled trying to lighten the mood.

Daryl returned his gaze and expression, which, for some reason, sent his stomach into a buzz of excitement, but he brushed it off. He followed Paul to his spot on the floor and waited for their float to start moving out into the crowd.

* * *

Their performance went off without a hitch each time as they all moved to the music in sync. He could hear Enid singing her heart out above them and couldn’t help but want to sing along, but he didn’t. He kept his mind focused on following the dance steps and enjoying his solo performance with Paul. Because of their dance together, Paul’s become one of the only people, along with Sasha and Tiana, who he’s okay with touching him.

He smiled brightly as Paul spun him around and then pulled him close. His part was more feminine, but he was also the least experienced member of the group and wasn’t ready to lead a dance yet. Paul assures him that in maybe a year, he’d be dancing the more feminine part while Daryl led, since he preferred it that way anyway. It also felt a little awkward at a few points since Daryl is taller than Paul.

Daryl let himself be carried away in the music and rhythm and forget everything that’s happened to him in the past. He could feel Paul and Sasha beside him as they danced to the eerie and powerful remix of “Survivor” by 2WEI. The lights flashed around them as they moved in sync and followed their practices choreography perfectly. They ended the song with Paul in the middle and Daryl and Sasha on either side of him.

After the song was over, Paul addressed the crowd, “How is everyone tonight?”

The crowd cheered in response.

“Good to hear. I hope you’ve enjoyed our performances tonight along with the lovely Enid Nacon singing for us.”

The crowd cheered once again.

“Well, that last song had a deeper meaning than what you might think. Our group is called “The Survivors” because a lot of us here are survivors of domestic violence, sometimes because we’re open about our queerness. This is a song of empowerment for us. It’s a song that represents how we’re not defeat by what happened to us. It’s a song about getting back up when we’re knocked down. Spreading awareness and collecting donations for domestic violence relief programs is our mission. On the right side of this float, there is a table set up that is accepting donations for victims of domestic abuse. Please, give what you can. Anything helps. Goodnight!”

Daryl watched as the crowd started to break into two groups. One group left to join some of the after parties that were going on while the other one was heading towards the donation table. Daryl smiled seeing how many people were ready and willing to help people like him and Paul.

“You did good out there tonight,” Paul spoke as he approached Daryl.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, you’ve got a natural talent for this stuff. I think you’ll be leading me in dances sooner than I originally predicted.”

“I like dancing, it makes me forget how fucked up my life is for a while. I just listen to the music and suddenly, it’s like I was never abused by my father.”

Paul sat down on the floor next to him, “I feel the same way. It’s nice to not think for a moment, to just feel.”

The two sat quietly beside each other, Daryl leaning lightly against Paul’s side, until the bus came to get them and take them to the hotel they’d be spending the night in. Honestly though, Daryl was pretty sure he could fall asleep right here, leaning against Paul Rovia.


	14. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl hangs out with his friends and learns about the past Paul has spent so long hiding.
> 
> P.S. there really isn’t a time period for this fic. I’m kind of just rolling with how the story flows naturally. So, just because they go see the Matrix in the theater, which came out in 1999, doesn’t mean that’s when this is all taking place. Time is relative in this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of where the story is going. :)  
> I know that it’s still really dark right now, but after this chapter things will really begin starting to look up for them.
> 
> Warning: discussions of past rape and abuse

_Daryl - 16, Paul - 19, Sasha - 20, Rosita - 22_

Daryl wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He’d just spent the last three hours underneath a particularly beaten up truck at Dale’s Auto Shop. He’d gotten a job there fairly quickly after Dale noticed how skilled he was with mechanics. He’d easily outclassed the other students there to learn how to fix car, so Dale hired him on as actual help. It was nice to be earning some money, too.

Every time he got paid, he gave half of it to Tiana and put the other half in a savings account for his top surgery. She had initially refused, but he had insisted and she’d eventually given in,putting it aside as a safety net for them in the future should they need it. Making only $9 an hour though meant he had a long way to go for his surgery. But he was working most days since he only had school two days of the week. He made approximately $300 a week, give or take $30, on average. So, that means he puts away about $150 for his surgery every week.

He still was attending the dance group and his self-defense lessons with Paul every Saturday. He’d improved so much since the pride parade. He was learning a new dance now in which he was leading Paul, something he’d thought would take a lot longer for him to be comfortable doing.

He and Paul also hung out outside of their scheduled meetings a lot more now. Sometimes they were joined by Sasha and Rosita who were becoming closer and closer as time went on. Paul predicts that they’ll be a couple by the end of the year at the latest.

As for Daryl and Paul, they both seemed to be skirting around the subject of their growing feelings for each other. Both of them were well acquainted with abuse and were scared of taking a step forward in case it ended badly. Besides, Daryl still didn’t know a lot about Paul’s past. Part of him wanted to ask him about it, but the more logical side of him knew that he himself didn’t want to be asked about his father’s actions so Paul probably wouldn’t like him prying either.

Daryl waved goodbye to Dale as he made his way out. He was supposed to meet up with Paul, Sasha, and Rosita to go see a movie this afternoon and right now he was covered in engine grease. He needed to get home and scrub as much of it off him as he could.

He made his way out to the car Dale had given him from their junkyard. He’d told him that if he could fix it, he could have it. Daryl had spent his free time over the next two months both learning how to drive and working on the car. By the time he got his license, he had the car working well enough to drive. It wasn’t much to look at, but it had only cost him $200 for parts and his free labor.

He grinned as he started the engine on his car up, hearing the roar beneath him. There were still some things he needed to fix, but overall it was a working car. The biggest issue was the hole in the muffler, but to fix it he needed to buy a muffler first and he didn’t have the money for that. Dale promised that if he ever got a junk car in with a good muffler on it, he’d give it to him.

Tiana had offered to buy him a car, but he’d adamantly refused to let her spend that much money on him when she was already paying for his hormone treatments.

Those treatments were paying off. His voice had dropped to such a low register that it was even hard for Dr. Peletier to believe how well the therapy had worked. Weight from his thighs and hips had begun to shift to other areas of his body giving him a more masculine appearance. That plus his increased working out with dance and self-defense training, he was becoming quite muscular. All together, the changes made it really easy to look at him and believe he was born in the correct body. The only issue he had with passing was his lack of a bulge in his pants when he was in his workout clothes.

He was looking into how to combat this problem and he managed to find a place that sells something called “packers” for people like him. Paul, who had been friends with other transgender people in the past, explained to him what they were. To get them though, was difficult and expensive, so he had decided to not tell Tiana and wait until he had enough money to buy one and the special underwear that would hold it into place when he was working out, or just walking around in his everyday life. For right now, he just wears baggy jeans to help conceal his lack of a real penis.

He pulled into his driveway and shut the car off. He went inside and immediately hopped into the shower. He scrubbed at the grease stains as much as he dared without rubbing his skin raw. He and Paul hadn’t talked about anything, but he still liked looking nice when they hung out outside of dance and self-defense training.

He pulled on a clean shirt on along with a pair of pants without any rips or grease stains on them. He dried his hair off as best he could before using his comb to move it to where he wanted it to dry. The last thing he did was grab his wallet and slip on some shoes and he was out the door again.

* * *

“Paul!” Daryl called out to him as he approached the table he was sitting at.

Paul looked up from the book he was reading and grinned.

“Hey, how was work?” Paul replied.

“Normal as ever,” Daryl said sitting down across from Paul to wait for the girls.

“Still can’t get that junker to start?”

“Nah, I got it to start, but now it won’t shift into gear. Now I’ve got to fix whatever’s doing that.”

“You are the only person I know that can make mechanics sound interesting.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows at that, “How? I wasn’t really trying to make it sound cool.”

“I don’t know, there’s just something about the way you talk about fixing things that makes it sound like the most interesting thing ever,” Paul mused, “Maybe it’s just because you’re the one saying it.”

Before Daryl could push further down that train of thought, he heard Sasha and Rosita walking up behind him.

“Hey guys, ready to go see the Matrix? I’ve heard it’s really good,” Sasha said swinging her legs on the bench next to Daryl.

“Yeah,” Paul said excitedly, “I heard the special effects are nothing like we’ve ever seen before.”

Daryl smiled contentedly as he listened to his friends and sister gush about the movie. It wasn’t for another hour, so they had some time to kill. He loved moments like this, where he could just sit will the people he cared about and just talk. For so long he’d only had Sasha to combat his loneliness, but now his world has expanded tenfold.

The most important addition to his world, however, has been Paul. He’s stood by him in some of his worst flashbacks, just like Sasha does. Sometimes when he loses focus for a second in their self-defense sessions, his brain interprets Paul showing him something as an attack. Afterwards, Paul always comforts him and insists that they’re done for the day. He never tries to push him beyond what he can handle, even if Daryl’s the one trying to push his episode aside.

“Guys,” Sasha reminds them, “we should leave now if we want to get seats all together.”

“Right,” Paul says as he stands, “I’ll drive.”

“Why?” Rosita teased him.

“Because,” Paul shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m the best driver.”

At that the other three burst out laughing.

“Didn’t you, just last week, miss your driveway in the dark and put giant tire marks in the grass outside your dorm?” Rosita asked through gasps of laughter.

Paul tried to lie and play it off, “No...”

Daryl laughed at his sad attempt to get Rosita off his back. Mainly because he’d seen the aftermath of Paul’s failed attempt at parking and it was hilarious.

“Fine,” Paul relented grumpily, “You can drive.”

“Thought so,” Rosita smirked, swinging her keys around on her finger in Paul’s face.

“Shotgun!” Sasha yelled and took off running towards Rositia’s car.

“Hey!” Daryl shouted and ran after her.

He could hear Paul and Rosita running after him, both of them laughing and arguing playfully.

* * *

“Holy shit,” Sasha exclaimed as they left the theater, “did y’all see those effects in that shootout?”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen action handled that way before. The slow motion shots were my favorite,” Paul sounds just as excited as Sasha.

The two continued to gush about the movie and how attractive the two lead characters were for the reminder of the ride back to campus. Daryl and Rosita also chimes in at multiple areas, but found the conversation more interesting to watch. It got hilarious when the two started bickering harmlessly about how the filmmakers could’ve pulled those effects off.

It wasn’t long before the group was pulling back into the campus parking lot. It was only 6 pm, so there was plenty of time left in the day to hang out. None of them were really hungry having eaten a ton of popcorn and sweets at the theater. Daryl wished the fun they were having would never end, but then Rosita suggested something that made his skin crawl.

“Anyone want to go swimming? They’re having laser night at the campus swimming pool tonight. Starts at 7:30, so there’s plenty of time for us all to grab our stuff. It’s my last chance to go before graduating next month.”

Daryl didn’t really like swimming, it involves too much skin exposure for his taste. He hoped that someday, maybe after his top surgery, he’d be okay with baring more skin, but not right now. And definitely not in public at a huge college party.

Plus, the college aspect also usually includes booze and large crowds. Two things Daryl doesn’t fuck with at all. Large crowds and alcohol put him on edge since he was often raped brutally by his father when his father was drunk. In fact, those were often the worst times.

Sasha caught his look of anxiety at the suggestion and immediately tried to tell Rosita no.

“Rosita, I don’t think that’s the best idea. It sounds like a lot of fun, but not everyone here likes to party. Maybe we can do something else?” Sasha suggested.

“Oh shit. Sorry, maybe we can just go back to my dorm and play some board games?” Rosita tried smooth over the awkward situation she’d accidentally stepped into.

Daryl knew Sasha was coming to his defense and he appreciated it, but he hates feeling like a burden. He couldn’t help but feel like he was preventing the girls from doing something really fun because of his own personal issues.

“Sasha, Rosita,” Daryl spoke up, “If you want to go, that’s fine. You guys deserve to have fun doing what you want to do.”

“Daryl...” Sasha started, but he cut her off.

“You can’t spend your whole life catering to my needs. Go have some fun with Rosita at the party, I’ll be fine. Really,” he insisted.

“I have an idea,” Paul said glancing between Daryl and Sasha, “You two can go to the normal, boring college party while Daryl and I go somewhere that’s actually fun.”

Daryl could see their hesitance to break away from their group simply because they wanted to go swimming together. Daryl also wondered if part of Rosita suggesting swimming was to see Sasha in her new blue and white bikini. He knew their relationship was blossoming, everyone could see it and he didn’t want to get in their way.

“Yeah, maybe Paul and I will finally go to that park on the edge of town and go hiking,” Daryl smiled.

He did feel slightly disappointed that Sasha wanted to do something that only she and Rosita could enjoy, but he loved that his sister falling for someone as cool and kind as Rosita and he wanted their relationship to soar. So, he refused to let his personal issues get in the way of their budding romance.

“Are you sure?” Sasha asked again, “I don’t want to leave you if you’d rather hang out all together.”

“Nah, I see you all the time at home. Go hang out with Rosita. Paul and I will be just fine without you guys.”

“You absolutely sure,” she checked one more time.

“Yes Sasha. I will be fine,” he assured her.

She nodded hesitantly, but relented and allowed Rosita to drag her back to the car to go get her bathing suit from back home. She insisted that should he need her that he call her, but he promised her that he’d be good with Paul. She’d hugged him one last time before leaving.

After the two left, Paul turned to him.

“You really want to go hiking with me?” he asked.

“Yeah, I like the outdoors. It’s calming and it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful night tonight. They’re are almost no clouds which means we’ll be able to see the stars,” Daryl mused.

Paul smiled, “I like that idea. I’ve got a blanket in my trunk, we can play it out and stargaze for a while once the sun goes down.”

Daryl grinned and followed Paul to his car to fetch the blanket. That’s when he noticed Paul going for his keys and unlocking the driver’s side car door.

“Oh, hell no,” Daryl playfully shouted at him, “You are not driving.”

Paul groaned and ran his right hand through his short, shaggy hair, “Seriously, you too?”

“Man, I saw the aftermath of your little misjudgement in parking. I’m driving.”

“But you’re only 16,” Paul reminded him.

“I know,” Daryl smirked, “and I’m already a way better driver than you. Just grab the blanket and let’s go.”

Paul grumbled under his breath, but popped the trunk and got the blanket out before locking his car and pocketing his keys.

Daryl climbed into the driver’s seat of his car laughing at Paul’s reaction. Paul sat down in the passenger’s seat and threw the blanket in the back seat. He buckled himself in, crossed his arms and pretended to pout.

“Y’all are a bunch of assholes, you know that,” Paul mumbled.

“True, but you love us anyway,” Daryl said starting the car.

“Yeah, I do,” Paul relented, turning his gaze to Daryl.

Daryl caught something in his eye that he didn’t understand, but it cause butterflies to stir in his stomach. He had to turn his face away and pretend to be checking his surroundings so that Paul wouldn’t see the pink hue on his cheeks. He wasn’t totally convinced that he was successful in hiding his blush, but he refused to let himself acknowledge the fact that Paul had seen how his words had affected him.

* * *

They drove to a nice park just outside town and walked the trails for a while before heading back to the main part of the park. While they wanted to lay out on a blanket and stargaze, neither one of them was interested in being alone in the woods at night. Instead, they laid their blanket down on top of a small hill in the middle of a field. They could see the dimly lit parking lot from where they were, but it was also secluded enough that they didn’t feel like they were in the middle of a cement jungle anymore.

Daryl laid down on his back and breathed out a contented sigh as he felt Paul lie down next to him. He felt a ghosting of Paul’s arms against his own, causing him to shiver. Part of him wanted to reach out and take his hand, but knowing his own past, he didn’t want to accidentally trigger Paul in some way.

He wanted to know more about Paul’s past. He was so secretive about it which made Daryl wonder what had happened that was so bad, he refused to talk about it with even someone like Daryl. Someone who might understand part of what he went through and suffered at the hands of other people.

Daryl glanced over at Paul’s form, spread out on the blanket, gazing up at the stars above. He looked at peace and Daryl wondered if joe would be a good time to try to approach the subject. Far away from prying eyes and listening ears. A safe space with someone who knew what it was like to be used, broken and beaten by someone who was supposed to protect them.

Daryl took a deep breath and went for it, cautiously.

“Why don’t you ever talk about it?” he whispered softly, “Your past.”

He wanted to give Paul the option to pretend that he hadn’t heard him and keep on watching the stars in silence. Daryl didn’t want to force Paul into a conversation he wasn’t ready for or wasn’t willing to have. Paul stayed quiet for a long time, making Daryl think that maybe he was just going to pretend he hadn’t heard him, but then he responded just as softly.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “I just feel like it’s too depressing to talk about. I mean, I’ve been through some really dark shit. I don’t like making other people feel uncomfortable when I talk about what I’ve been through.”

Daryl hummed in response to let Paul know he was listening.

“I also hate it when people do listen and they pity me. They treat me like some broken toy that they can fix magically with the right amount of laughter and positivity. What I went through was horrific, but it didn’t kill me. I’m not as broken as people like to believe that I am. And I’m definitely not some sob story that someone can use to make themselves look better.”

“I know what you mean,” Daryl said, “Sometimes the comments I get about what my father did to me are focused on making the other person look good because they’re paying attention to someone who was molested. They think they deserve a medal because they interacted with me for a full minute and gave me a nice tip for fixing their car.”

“I wish I could become more than that identity. My whole life, since I was put in the system at the age of 9, I’ve been treated like a broken robot. When people realized they couldn’t easily fix me, they gave up.”

“Why did you get sent into the system?”

Paul sighed, “My mother was a drug addict who’d had a one night stand with my father. They never meant to even have me. I was born addicted to heroine, but my mother promised that she’d get clean. She did and she was good for a long time, but when my father died in a gang related drive by shooting, she relapsed. I was eight at the time. Eventually, it got so bad that she overdosed and died right in front of me. I still remember her shaking violently and choking on the ground before going still. I call 9-1-1 and waited for someone to come save my mother. I didn’t understand that she was already dead. That’s when they put me in the system.”

“You said multiple homes back at the dance studio the first day I met you. How often were you moved around and why?” Daryl asked softly.

“I switched homes a lot. My queerness wasn’t the only reason I was sent back from homes. Sometimes they would send be back because I wasn’t the perfect child that they had envisioned adopting. I wore clothes with skulls and blood on them, cursed and smoked weed. I stayed out late because I was participating in underage drinking. I was dealing with so much stuff and, simply because they didn’t want to deal with that, they returned me. Which, in the long run, that only made it worse.”

Daryl listened silently to Paul’s story. He could relate to parts of it. He knew what it was like to be viewed as a burden, worthless because of his father, but he’d found his forever family in Sasha and Tiana. He didn’t know what it was like to think you’d found your family only to be returned because you weren’t what they wanted.

“In the system, the more times you’re returned the less they care about where they send you next. So, each time I got sent back, the next family was inevitably worse because my agents at that point were just trying to get me to go somewhere. My presence was a stain on their record since they couldn’t seem to find anywhere that would take me.”

Paul shifted uncomfortably on the grass, but he found that he couldn’t stop now. It felt good to finally tell Daryl about his past because he knew that, out of everyone he called a friend, Daryl was one of the few who might understand how he feels.

“That’s how I ended up in a string of abusive, horrible homes. It started out with just being hit here and there. Screamed at for not following some ridiculous house rule. I ran away a lot, which resulted in me being labeled as a ‘flight risk.’ In response to my persistent habit of running away from every home they put me in, they started only giving me to families that claimed to be able to control kids like me. That basically meant that they locked us up in the basement and left us there.

I’ve have my dinner thrown down at me from the top of stairs and had to scramble to get some of it up off the dirty ground before the mice got to it. I’ve gone for days without food and only dirty water to drink. But still, those houses weren’t the worst of them. I got very skilled at escaping. By the age of 13 I could pick any lock, scale just about any wall, and even wiggle my way out of rope restraints.”

“Wow,” Daryl breathed.

Paul hasn’t even started talking about when he was raped, yet. Daryl so badly wanted to pull Paul close and comfort him, but he still wasn’t sure what might set him off. Especially when he was so vulnerable talking about all this stuff.

“Yeah, but that meant they just sent me to stricter and stricter places. That’s when the rape started. A lot of these people knew that by traumatizing us, we wouldn’t have the strength or mental capacity to run. I was beaten until I could barely walk so that any possibility of escape was gone. I was raped multiple times a day by both men and women so that I wouldn’t be able to even move without being in excruciating pain.

The worst house I was ever in was when I was 16 and sent to live in a group home of sorts run by three men. It wasn’t just me there. I was with four other kids, two girls and a boy. As soon as I was forced through their door, I was thrown into a homemade cell with the other kids, all of them younger than me.

We were chained to the wall like you see in those old medieval dungeons. I couldn’t even reach my other hand to try to pick the lock. They fed us by pouring some kind of protein drink down our throats. We got water, food and a bathroom break once a day.”

Daryl was seriously starting to feel sick to his stomach at Paul’s descriptions.

“They would come into the cell once a day and drag one or two of us out. Then, they would basically gang rape us. They used whatever they could find to hurt us. They sometimes even made us hurt or fuck each other. They even gave us drugs to make us high, to make us think we wanted it.

This went on for about 6 months before they all got drunk one night and passed out before locking me back up. I didn’t care how much pain I was in, I knew I needed to escape. So, I crawled out the window and limped my way to the nearest house and prayed to a god I don’t believe in that the people were kind.

I got very lucky that night when the couple saw how skinny and abused I was and called the cops. The three men were arrested and sentenced to life in prison. Luckily for me, they kept all of our identities hidden so that nobody would recognize us as the children who were gang raped in foster care.”

Daryl swallowed hard. Paul’s past was making his sound like a goddamn dream. Daryl had thought his father was a twisted man, but those three men outdid him by a mile.

“Were they the last ones who... you know,” Daryl whispered.

“Yeah. I was sent to live in a rehabilitation center for victims of sexual abuse in Georgia since it was the closest place with an open spot for such a serious case. That’s how I ended up here even though I was born in Virginia. They had to wean me off of the drugs that they’d been using on us because I had become addicted to them. It was a long process and they wanted me to stay for a lot longer than I did, but I didn’t trust any of them. So, as soon as I turned 18, I checked myself out and left the system behind.”

The two laid there silently, reflecting on everything that had just been revealed about Paul’s past. The horrors he’d endured in the system and his resilience to not let them destroy him. Daryl turned over on his side to look at Paul better. Paul noticed and moved his head to gaze into Daryl’s eyes.

“I can’t say that I’ll ever understand the magnitude of what you endured,” Daryl began, “My father was horrible, but he was the only one to ever touch me. I don’t think I want to know the number of people who hurt you because I care about you too much. But, I do know what it’s likes to be used, to feel powerless and broken.”

Paul has now turned to look at him fully.

“I promise that if you’ll let me, I’ll always be here to support you just like you have been doing for me. I had no idea what you’d gone through, but now that I do, neither of us have to feel alone in this.”

Paul’s lips parted slightly as he listened to Daryl’s words. This boy who is three years younger than him, is offering to walk alongside him as they both learn how to live in a world that doesn’t always want to hurt them. They both have a great group of friends now who care about them deeply and would go to war for them if necessary.

Paul could feel himself being drawn to Daryl in a way he had never felt before. Daryl had stopped talking and was just gazing into Paul’s eyes. In those eyes, Paul couldn’t make out an ounce of pity, only seeing kindness and love. Which made Paul fall for Daryl even more than he already had.

Daryl gazed into Paul’s eyes, watching as the moon and starlight caught in his eyes and made them sparkle. His eyes were practically drawing him in like magnets, begging him to close the distance between them. He could feel Paul beginning to lean in, his hair flopping handsomely over his brow. Daryl felt his back lay flat on the ground as Paul leaned over him slowly, letting the moonlight shine like a halo around his head. Paul closed his eyes and leaned in but, just as their lips began pressing against each other, Daryl’s mind went spinning.

The soft blanket beneath him and the beautiful man in front of him vanished and he was plunged headlong into his memory of Spencer at school. He could smell his disgusting cologne and feel his tongue pushing at his lips, trying to force them open. He started to panic and thrash around. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and his eyes rolled back into his head as he plunged deeper into his past.

His father grabbed him from behind by the should and spun him around so that his back collided painfully with the wall. He felt his father lift him up, pull the skirt his father had forced him to wear up leaving him bare. His father often wanted him to go without underwear around the house for easier access. He screamed as he father roughly shoved inside, pinning him against the wall, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his shoulder.

That’s when he heard a voice, like an angel from heaven telling him that it was all a nightmare, a terrible dream. Daryl looked at his father and was met with unseeing eyes and blood pouring from his open mouth. Daryl screamed and shoved his father away from him as hard as he could. Then, he was falling.

He spiraled downward into nothingness, but soon that voice came back to him, soft and comforting. He had the strangest feeling that he knew that voice, so he followed it. It got brighter and brighter until his vision whited out and he was suddenly snapped back to reality.

His eyes flew open and he was met with the concerned face of Paul Rovia. They were still under the stars on top of the hill, lying together on Paul’s blanket. Paul was no longer touching him, just speaking to him in a calm, soothing tone.

“Daryl, I’m here. You’re safe,” Paul whispered.

Daryl could feel his rapid heartbeat slowing and he stopped gasping for air. Paul noticed that he was starting to come around and smiled guiltily at him.

“Paul?” Daryl breathed, “What’s wrong? You’ve seen me have a flashback before.”

“I know,” he mumbled, picking at the hem of the blanket, “But not directly because of my intentional actions before. I kissed you and it sent you into a downward spiral I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get you back from.”

“Paul, I’m okay.”

“You screamed, Daryl. I kissed you and for the first ten seconds it was amazing and then you started freaking out.”

“It wasn’t you, I was seeing Spencer and my father. I know that you would never hurt me,” Daryl tried to comfort and soothe Paul’s obvious guilt over the situation.

“It felt like when those men would force me to hurt those other children. I just can’t... I can’t get that terrified look on your face out of my head,” Paul explained.

In the moonlight, Daryl could just barely make out the tears running down Paul’s face. Daryl slowly sat up and moved towards Paul. He stopped right in front of him and slowly reached out for him. Paul flinched at first, but then let Daryl pull him in. Paul rested his head in the crook of Daryl’s arm, wrapped his arms around him, and let himself cry.

Never once had Daryl thought that his first real kiss would result in such a mess of emotion and triggered flashbacks. He’d had the perfect idea of it in his head for so long. Out in nature with the person he loved, kissing once under the stars and then making out as they basked in each other’s warmth. But this wasn’t a normal situation. Both he and Paul were horribly abused growing up and still bore fresh mental scars from it, preventing them from being a “normal” couple.

Paul’s crying eventually subsided, but he didn’t let go of Daryl. The two stayed there, locked in an embrace under the stars. It felt like their way of declaring to each other that they were going to be there for the other no matter what. It might not have been the romantic kiss under the stars Daryl had imagined, but this hug was just as, if not more, intimate and bonding.

Paul eventually pulled away from Daryl and wiped his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“So, what now?” Daryl asked unsure how to proceed.

They’d just kissed for the first time, but it had sent both of them into a severe PTSD spiral.

“I don’t know,” Paul admitted, “All I know is that I really do like you, but I don’t think we’re ready to do anything like that.”

Daryl nodded. He was slightly disappointed that Paul wasn’t open to trying again, but he could understand how traumatizing have to watch his reaction to being kissed was.

“I agree,” Daryl responded, “I know I want a relationship with you, but I don’t think it can be the traditional relationship other people our ages have. We have too much emotional baggage in our way at the moment to allow it.”

“So we’ll just stay friends for right now?” Paul asked nervously, “Or do you want to put a label on this and just take it really slow?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want you to find someone else, but I also don’t want to hold you back if you do and I’m not ready yet.”

“I honestly don’t believe that I’ll find anyone I like more than you. You’re the first person to catch my eye, ever,” Paul revealed, ducking his head shyly.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Paul shrugged.

“Same for me,” Daryl admitted, catching Paul’s eyes with his own.

“So, boyfriends?” Paul asked, the anxiety he was feeling about the question bleeding into his voice.

“I’d like that,” Daryl responded, smiling softly at Paul, “platonic boyfriends until we’re ready to move past that.”

Paul smiled brightly, joy practically radiating from him.

“Come here,” he said, motioning for Daryl to lie down next to him.

Daryl grinned and followed his instructions, laying his head on Paul’s chest. He could hear the faint sound of Paul’s heart beating beneath his skin. He felt Paul wrap his arms around him Daryl did the same. The two laid there in each other’s arms for another hour before deciding to go home and crash at Paul’s single dorm room. The two held hands all the way up to Paul’s room and fell asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms.


	15. Birthday Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy 18th Birthday, Daryl Dixon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full group performance starts at 2:32.  
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-7D_yFsa8zQ

_ Daryl - 18, Paul - 21 _

Daryl’s alarm went off at 8 am just like it does every morning. Also like every morning, he was already awake and getting ready to go. He really only kept the alarm working as a fail safe. Ever since he was really young, waking up with the sun has been a habit of his.

Today is January 6th, his 18th birthday. He knew that Sasha, Tiana and Paul were planning something for today, but he didn’t know what exactly. Not even his boyfriend would let him know anything about what was going on. He simply explained that it was all a surprise and that he’d love it.

He’d been skeptical at first, but he’s since grown used to the idea. Every year when Tiana and Sasha asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday since they met, he hadn’t known what to say. They’ve had a BBQ, gone camping, gone to the movies, and even spent a long weekend exploring Atlanta, Georgia. Last year, Paul surprised him by taking him and Sasha to his first ever fair. They’d road rides, eaten sweets, and played rigged games all day long. This year, however, he didn’t know what to expect.

He strapped on his binding bra and slipped his favorite shirt over his head. It was a black t-shirt with a wolf howling up at the stars from a rock overlooking a lake in the middle of the forest. Paul had given it to him on his birthday last year along with a quiver of new crossbow bolts.

“Daryl!” Tiana yelled from the kitchen, “You up?”

“Yeah,” he called back, tying his shoes and leaving the room.

He walked into the kitchen and was hit in the face with the mouthwatering smell of bacon cooking. Tiana was busy turning bacon over in a pan and checking on the potatoes in the pan next to it. He could see fresh biscuits baking in the oven and some eggs waiting to be cracked into the bacon grease.

“Morning birthday boy,” she teased him smiling, snapping her tongs at him.

He blushed at her tone, but smiled at her antics.

“Morning Ma,” he replied walking over to the fridge and pulling the milk out.

He’d started calling Tiana Ma over a year ago. It had happened by accident one day when they were hanging out camping. He’d felt guilty about it for a long time afterwards, but after talking about it with Michonne he realized that it was okay for him to move on from his birth mother. His real mother died a long time ago. He wasn’t replacing his mother with Tiana, just moving on with his life.

“You ready for today?” she asked removing the bacon from the pan to cool.

“Of course,” he said, pouring himself a glass of milk, “but I still have no idea  _ what _ I should be ready for.”

She smirked cracking an egg into the pan, “Trust me, it’ll be worth waiting for.”

Daryl groaned, “You can’t even give me a hint?”

“Nope,” she laughed, “but I can give you some breakfast. Go wake up Sasha.”

“Yes, Ma,” he stuck his tongue out at her, but left to go wake up Sasha.

He opened the door and was immediately hit in the face by a cannonball of rainbow confetti.

“Ah! What the hell?!” he shouted in shock, standing frozen in the doorway.

“Hell yeah!” he heard Sasha cheer from inside her room.

He wiped the confetti off his eyelids and mouth. Sasha was absolutely dying laughing on her bed as he tried to shake some of the confetti out of his hair.

“Sasha, what the fuck?” he gasped running his fingers through his short hair.

“Happy birthday!” she smiled brightly, jumping off her bed.

She stopped just short of him, arms spread wide, respecting his decision to be hugged or not. He glared at her for a second before his face broke into a smile and he pulled her in for a hug. She squealed in excitement as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I love you, asshole,” he said pushing his forehead against her shoulder.

“I love you too, brother.”

They pulled apart and she helped him brush the rest of the confetti out of his hair, giggling the whole time.

“I think I like you better with rainbow confetti in your hair,” she teased, “It brings out your eyes.”

Daryl playfully grabbed some of the fallen confetti and threw it at Sasha.

“Ah, No! I just got my hair done at the salon you maniac,” she yelped dodging out of the way.

Daryl chuckled and rolled his eyes at her, but let it go.

“Come on, Ma’s almost done cooking breakfast,” he motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen.

They were just in time to see Tiana plating their breakfasts. It wasn’t normal that they got this kind of breakfast since she was always working to support them, but since it’s his birthday, she’d taken the day off. She does it every year for both his and Sasha’s birthdays.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at the fourth plate she was making. There are only three of them here.

“Ma,” he asked, “Why the extra plate?”

Before she could answer there was a knock at the door. Daryl got up to go answer it and was met with the face of his boyfriend, Paul.

“Hey babe,” Paul grinned.

Daryl returned the smile and embraced him. Paul gave him a quick peck on the cheek, but nothing beyond that. They’d kissed a few times since that first night just over 2 years ago, but not all that often. Their issues were getting better, but they still weren’t fully comfortable with physical intimacy. They really saved real kisses for big, important moments.

“You’re just in time for breakfast,” Daryl said pulling him inside and closing the door.

“Awesome, I love Tiana’s cooking.”

“She’s already made you a plate, come on.”

Paul followed him into the kitchen and sat down next to him. He licked his lips absentmindedly when he saw the food. Living in a dorm room, he didn’t have access to a stove to cook his own food the way he likes it. He really only has the cafeteria food to eat, which isn’t all that good. So, every time he comes over Tiana makes sure to load him up with delicious food.

“You ready for today?” Paul asked Daryl.

“Yeah,” he replied around a mouthful of bacon, “at least, I think I am. Still got no idea what’s going on today.”

Paul smirked at him, “Good. We wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Daryl groaned and his family laughed at his misery. Fuck he loved them all so much.

* * *

Shortly after dinner, Tiana had them all pile into the car and took them to a neighboring town. The area was packed with various shops and a farmers market was being held in some blocked off streets. It didn’t take Daryl very long to figure out why Tiana had brought him here.

There were rainbow flags everywhere. He’d been here a few times before with Paul and the dance crew, but never when he wasn’t performing. This time he’d have more time to explore since he didn’t have to worry about the performance. Paul took his hand as they walked by the various tables where people were trying to sell their art pieces, food, or products.

A particular painting caught Sasha eye. It was a silhouette painting of two girls kissing on the beach with the sunset behind them, lighting up their figures. Sasha and Rosita has finally gotten together officially almost six months ago. The painting reminded her of their first kiss and she just had to buy it to give to Rosita on their six month anniversary.

Tiana’s eye was caught by a beautiful array of jewelry. There were pieces already made by the artist, but also the option to create her own. Glancing at the beads, she noticed that the glass beads were colored to represent pride flags. She strung one of each the trans, rainbow, and lesbian flag beads on a gold chain, separated by three smaller white beads.

“One for each member of my family,” she smiled placing the necklace around her neck.

Paul furrowed his eyebrows, “Who’s the rainbow one for? Or is it just to connect the two?”

“It’s for you, Paul,” she explained, “you’re part of my family too, you know.”

“Oh...” Paul mumbled shocked.

Tiana pulled him into a hug, “I thought you already knew that. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“It’s fine,” he promised her, brushing it off, “When did you start considering me family?”

“The night I saw how happy you make my son.”

Daryl looked between the two and felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. Some days he still couldn’t believe how his life had turned out. Tiana released Paul from the hug and turned back to observing the art around them. Daryl noticed Paul subtlety wiping at his eyes, but didn’t mention it.

Paul found a novelty t-shirt stand that sold shirts with strange and funny sayings on them. The one that caught his eye read “I can’t even think straight.” It was a great play on words and a safe enough saying to wear in public on campus in the middle of nowhere Georgia. The shirt itself was gray with black lettering. Daryl snorted when he saw what Paul had bought, which only affirmed Paul’s decision that he did the right thing in buying it.

At this point, Sasha was getting hungry, so she and Tiana left the two to go get something to eat. Daryl and Paul weren’t hungry yet, so they kept on exploring. They all agreed to meet at the entrance of the market in an hour.

The two wandered the streets of the town glancing at all the storefronts. Daryl still hadn’t really seen anything that caught his eye. He was especially selective when it came to his money since he was still saving up for his top surgery. He was only short about $6,000. He refused to let Tiana buy him almost anything since she was paying for so many of his medical bills.

Finally, something caught Paul’s eye that he thought Daryl might like. He’d heard about shops like it before, but hadn’t really believed he’d find one in Georgia. It was a store that sold a variety of different things, but also sold packers for trans men.

“Hey Daryl,” Paul nudged him, “let’s check out this place.”

“Uh, okay,” Daryl said letting Paul take the lead.

Paul ignored all the more provocative items and went straight for where he could see a sign advertising packers.

“Paul,” Daryl hissed at his boyfriend, “Why are we here? I’m pretty sure this is a sex shop.”

“It is, partly,” Paul explained, “but I heard from a friend that places like this sometimes sell packers for trans men.”

Daryl didn’t know what to say to that. He had wanted one, but never knew where to buy one from and he wasn’t super keen on using a public computer to look it up. He didn’t want his search history about finding a fake penis to be out in public like that.

He let Paul drag him through the store until they arrived at an aisle full of fake penises. They weren’t the erect, sex toy style pieces they’d passed earlier. They were definitely designed for public wear since most of them were in a flaccid state.

Paul noticed that Daryl was pretty much rooted to the spot, too nervous to even think about looking. Daryl shifted a bit back and forth on his feet. He knew he wanted one, but he was scared to look at them. It would be acknowledging that he’d never have a real one of his own and that was difficult for him. It reminded him about his body and how messed up he is.

“Hey,” Paul said cutting off Daryl’s train of thought, “You’re perfect because you’re you. This is just going to help you feel more like you.”

Daryl swallowed and nodded softly. He still didn’t say anything as he stepped into the aisle. He walked past the dark skinned ones to the ones matching his skin tone. He held up his arm to some of the pieces to better gauge which one matched him. But even after picking a skin tone, there were a lot of different styles.

“What do I do here?” Daryl asked softly.

“Well,” Paul began, “you probably don’t want it to look like you’ve got a hard-on all day, so I’d stick with the flatter pieces.”

“Okay, but there are still so many.”

“Why don’t we pick a few styles and see if you can try them on with the underwear,” Paul suggested.

“Yeah,” Daryl whispered absentmindedly glancing over at the different underwear options.

He had already switched over to male underwear, wearing mainly boxer briefs and tighty-whities. He ended up going with a style that would hold the fake penis in a special pouch in front of his crotch. It buttoned at the top to prevent the penis from falling out during everyday wear. He grabbed a few different penis styles from the rack and disappeared into one of the dressing rooms.

He pulled his pants off after triple checking the lock on the door. He could see Paul’s shoes under the door, which comforted him. He slipped the underwear over his current underwear and then placed the first penis inside the pouch. He then pulled his pants up and buttoned them. He glanced at himself in the mirror and almost broke down crying.

It was the first time he’d ever seen himself with a bulge where most men would have one. However, while he liked seeing it, this was making it look like he was aroused. He tried all the styles before settling on a more subtle look. You could still see there was something there, but it didn’t look like he need to go take a cold shower.

He opened the door slightly to allow Paul inside. Paul has yet to see him without all his clothes on. In one way, it was to help keep up the illusion that he had male parts. Another reason was that he wasn’t yet comfortable with being physically naked around other people, even those whom he trusts.

Paul grinned when he looked down and saw the subtle bump over his boyfriend’s crotch. It felt a little weird to be looking, but he knew his opinion was important to Daryl.

“It looks good, babe,” Paul assured him, “really good.”

Daryl smiled wide and embraced his boyfriend. The two stood there in the dressing room embracing each other for a good while. When the two pulled back, Daryl glanced at himself in the mirror again. He smiled softly seeing the bulkiness in his jeans matching Paul’s. Paul leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“I’ll leave you to change back into your normal clothes,” Paul said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment too much.

“I wish I didn’t have to.”

“I know. Maybe after we pay for it, we can stop at a bathroom somewhere and you can change,” he suggested.

Daryl nodded. They’d noticed a Wendy’s just down the street from here. He could change there if he bought a drink. He was feeling a little thirsty anyway.

Paul left the changing room and Daryl removed the packer and the special underwear. He placed them both back in their bags before exiting the room. The two made their way to the checkout register and Daryl paid for the items. Paul had started to offer to pay for them, but Daryl had quickly shut him down.

The two left the store and made a beeline for the Wendy’s. Paul went to order them some drinks while Daryl went to the bathroom. He entered the men’s bathroom and was relieved to see that nobody else was there. He made his way to one of the stalls and locked the door. He made quick work of his pants and underwear and pulled out his new clothes. The underwear felt nice against his skin and he carefully placed the packer inside of the pouch. He pulled back on his jeans, threw his dirty underwear into the shopping bag and exited the stall.

He heard a man enter the bathroom just as he exited the stall. His heart jumped into his throat as he pretended like he wasn’t nervous. The man said nothing and simply walked over to one of the urinals and unzipped his pants. Daryl did his best to ignore the man as he washed his hands. He dried them and quickly exited the bathroom.

Paul glanced up from the table he was seated at munching on some french fries when he heard someone exit the bathroom. He noticed it was Daryl and was quick to see the new bulge in his boyfriend’s jeans. It made him happy to see it because he knew it would help with Daryl’s confidence in passing on a day to day basis.

“You look good,” Paul complimented him as he sat down.

Daryl blushed a bit before stealing some of Paul’s fries.

“Hey!” Paul snapped playfully, “Eat your own. I bought the other one for you.”

Daryl laughed lightly and picked up his own fries. He drank some of his coke before digging in. They still had about 5 minutes before they’d need to the meeting point they’d set with Sasha and Tiana.

“But seriously, Daryl,” Paul insisted, “It looks really good, very natural.”

“Thank you,” Daryl said shyly.

It was nice to know that it looked normal. He was worried people would know it was fake and laugh at him or call him a freak. Paul’s assurance that it looked like it belonged there was good because he never really wanted to take it off. He liked seeing that bulkiness in his jeans from it. It made him feel more masculine than the flat front of his jeans previously had.

The two threw away their empty fry containers and left Wendy’s. They made their way to the entrance of the farmer’s market and sat down at a nearby bench to wait for the girls. Daryl could feel Paul pressing against his side, silently asking for Daryl to pull him closer. He lifted his left arm up and wrapped it around his boyfriend’s lower back. Paul quickly snuggled closer and laid his head on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl allowed himself to relax back against the bench and enjoy Paul’s closeness.

It wasn’t long before the girls were coming up over the hill and into their line of view. Daryl was the one who noticed them first because Paul had closed his eyes as he rested against him. Sasha made an “aw” face when she saw them, causing Daryl to duck his head.

“They’re here,” he whispered to Paul.

“But I’m all comfy,” Paul whined.

Daryl chuckled, “I know, but it’s time to move. Ma said we need to be headed back to our house by 1 pm and it’s now 1:15 according to my watch.”

Paul groaned and muttered nonsense under his breath in frustration as he pulled away from his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry we’re so late. We got caught up watching a local band play,” Tiana explained.

“It’s fine,” Paul told her, “It won’t start until we’re all there.”

Daryl looked at his boyfriend confused, “What won’t start?”

“Nothing,” he replied vaguely.

Now it was Daryl’s turn to groan in frustration. Why wouldn’t anyone tell him what was going on?

* * *

As soon as they turned the corner onto their street, Daryl noticed the blue balloons tied to their mailbox. They hadn’t been there when they left. There were also a lot more cars parked on the street. They pulled into the driveway and as soon as he exited the car, he could hear music playing. It sounded like it was coming from their backyard. He looked at his family in confusion, only to find them all smiling like they knew something he didn’t; which, of course, they did.

“Come on,” Paul encouraged him, “sounds like the party is ready to go.”

Daryl followed his family inside, quickly depositing his shopping bag in his bedroom before heading to where the music was coming from. He opened their back door and was met with a chorus of people shouting “surprise” and setting off confetti poppers like the one Sasha had got him with that morning. He yelped and watched in shock as the confetti settled on their back porch and on him.

“So this is where you got that thing from!” he accused Sasha.

She just cackled evilly and stuck her tongue out at him before sprinted over to hug Rosita. It was like someone had burst some kind of invisible bubble because as soon as she laughed, everyone else, including Daryl, joined in. He glanced over to his right and saw his boyfriend absolutely dying with laughter. He also had confetti in his hair from being too close to Daryl when their friends had confetti bombed him.

Daryl shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair to get the confetti out of it as best he could. Paul was doing the same, still laughing lightly.

Daryl looked up and addressed his friends, smiling wide, “A little warning about the confetti would’ve been nice, but it’s good to see all of you. I think it’s time to party.”

The group chuckled a bit before dispersing to enjoy the party. Daryl could see a dance floor at the back of the yard, tables full of pizza, chips, and pop on the left and a couple games on the right. In the middle was an open space for people to talk and hang out. Everything was decorated in a dark blue color with rainbow balloons tied their single tree. 

“This is amazing,” Daryl said to Paul.

“I’m glad you like it, now I do believe that the pizza is calling my name.”

Daryl chuckled at his boyfriend’s remark, but followed him to the food tables. They both grabbed some pizza and a drink before walking into the open area and sitting in the grass. It wasn’t long before more people were joining them. They all joked and laughed as they ate. They were all just genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Paul’s legs were criss crossed over Daryl’s lap as he laid in the grass.  Daryl noticed Sasha and Rosita playing games and rewarding each other with kisses when they won. Daryl wished he and Paul were that comfortable already, but their relationship would take time to progress to that level of physical intimacy. He noticed Paul watching them as well and wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

It was maybe two hours into the party when Paul’s watch alarm went off. So far, Daryl had kicked Paul’s ass at darts and the ring toss. The only thing Paul had managed to beat Daryl at so far was paper football.

Paul motioned towards some of the other people and they all soon started to head towards the dance floor. The few people dancing stopped and waited for everyone else to join. Daryl was really confused. He didn’t know anything about what was going on. He watched from the grass as everyone else in his crew got into position on the floor. He looked at Paul in confusion, who just smirked at him.

He saw Tiana out the corner of his eye click a button on the radio that had been playing their background music until now. She put something in and pressed play. Suddenly, the air was filled with the beautiful voice of Lady Gaga as she spoke the opening lines of “Born This Way.” Daryl watched in awe as they all started moving in sync.

The dance was obviously well practiced, which made him wonder when they’d had time to do this and how he had never known about it. Daryl watched with a wide smile as his friends and family danced to Lady Gaga. This was obviously his birthday present from the crew. They knew how much this song meant to him, so performing to it at his birthday meant a lot. It was the first song he’d ever dance solo with Paul, so it has since kinda become their song in a way.

The performance was beautiful and ended with them all doing splits and pointing at something behind him. He turned to look, curious as to what was behind him. His heart stopped when he saw the sign that his Ma had unveiled while they were dancing. It no longer read, “Happy Birthday!” but “You’re Getting Top Surgery!”

He was super confused now. He knew he’d originally planned to have it when he turned 18, but he was still $6,000 short due to some unavoidable circumstances.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, “I can’t afford to...”

He was cut off by Paul behind him saying, “Yes, you can.”

He spun back around to look at his boyfriend only to see the entire crew holding one of those dumb big checks with the number $6,589 on it. Now, he was even more confused than before. None of them could possibly afford to pay that much money even all combined.

“Wha...” he began, but was once again cut off.

“We’ve been secretly raising money over the past year. We’ve done a few performances without you, as a group and separately, where we told the crowd what we were raising money for. Our founder agreed to it, so here we are.”

“But I can’t... it’s too much. Other people need this more...” Daryl tried.

“You deserve to be happy too, Daryl,” Sasha said from beside Paul, “We all want you to be happy and feel at home in your own body.”

Daryl felt like he couldn’t breathe. He could feel his eyes watering, but he knew he was smiling. Paul broke away from the group and ran to Daryl. He pulled him against him just as Daryl broke down. His knees went weak and he had to put a majority of his weight onto Paul to stay standing.

He hugged Paul tight and let himself cry tears of joy and disbelief into his shirt. He couldn’t totally process what was going on. He just knew that he was happy; not just happy, he was euphoric, exuberant, deliriously happy. 

They could feel their crew around them, watching Daryl reaction from a distance. None of them crowded into a big group hug like in the movies knowing Daryl and Paul’s issues with large crowds. Tiana smiled softly at her son and his boyfriend. She was glad Daryl was going to be able to get that surgery like he’d wanted. He’d tried to play down his disappointment at not being able to afford it only making $12 an hour as a part-time mechanic at Dale’s Auto Shop.

She’d offered to help him save, but he’d refused to let her. She knew he already felt guilty about letting her pay for his testosterone treatments, so she didn’t push it. Instead, she came up with this plan and brought Paul and Sasha in on it. There was about $1,000 of her own money in that check combined with the donations. She knew Daryl would’ve pitched a fit if she’d tried to give him the money any other way.

Daryl broke away from Paul and pulled Sasha into a hug. He kissed her cheek softly before pulling away.

“Thank you, everyone,” Daryl choked out, “so much. I can’t believe that you would do this for me.”

“We love you,” Rosita smiled softly at him, stepping forward to hold hands with Sasha.

“I love you guys too. Fuck, now I’ve got to find a doctor...”

Tiana spoke up from beside the crowd, “Don’t worry about that. As soon as I heard we’d raised enough money, I called Dr. Peletier to discuss who could perform the surgery. You’re going to get your surgery one month from today. I already called your school and job and told them. I took a few days off then too.”

Daryl ran over and hugged his mother tight.

“Thanks, Ma,” he whispered.

She loved hearing him call her that. She kissed his cheek and let him go. They all spent the rest of the night playing party games and laughing with each other. Daryl talked to some of the other dancers who knew people who’d had this operation about what to expect and they were all happy to tell him about it. Paul stuck close to his side the rest of the night, deciding to stay the night instead of driving home.

Daryl led Paul to his room and gave him some sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear. Daryl was larger than Paul, so both things were extremely baggy on him. The neck of the shirt slid down over one of Paul’s shoulders, which was super attractive. Daryl crawled into his double bed and let Paul snuggle up against him, resting his head on his shoulder instead of the pillow. 

Tiana knew the boys didn’t have a physical relationship, so she wasn’t worried about them sleeping in the same room and the same bed. Even if they did, she would probably just tell them to keep it down if they decided to do anything. She was a teen once, she understood what it was like to be in love.

Daryl twirled Paul’s hair around his finger. It was just below his shoulders now and he had decided to start growing a beard last month. He was really starting to look like his nickname’s namesake, Jesus. As for Daryl, he’d kept his hair short and a small stubble was growing just around his mouth. Nothing too crazy like Paul’s full-on beard, but enough for him to be happy with the effects of the testosterone.

“Thank you for today,” Daryl whispered softly.

“You’re welcome, babe,” Paul murmured.

“You helped me finally get the courage to go buy a packer, you helped raise over 6,000 dollars. What would I do without you?”

Paul sat up slightly, letting his hair fall down his back.

“I could say the same thing about you,” he whispered, “Now that I know you, I don’t think I could ever survive without you.”

Paul slowly began to lean in and Daryl let him. Their lips touched in a sweet, soft kiss. Their lips moved in sync with each other as they kissed deeply. Paul ran his tongue over Daryl’s bottom lip and Daryl parted them to give him access to his mouth. Their tongues tangled in a romantic dance with Paul in the lead. They only broke apart when the need for air became undeniable.

“I love you,” Daryl whispered staring deep into Paul’s eyes.

“I love you, too,” Paul responded in kind.

They spent the next half hour softly making out, something they’d never done before. Both of them knew this was a turning point in their relationship and both were eager to explore this new territory, especially with Daryl’s top surgery on the horizon.


	16. Soft Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry for such long waits between chapters. It’s been really hard to find the energy to write while working 40-50 hours a week at a fast food restaurant.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! :)

_Daryl - 18, Paul - 21_

Daryl was sitting on his bed waiting for Paul to arrive at his house. Paul had decided not long after Daryl’s party that he was going with them to get Daryl’s top surgery. Paul was coming over to stay the night so that they could leave early tomorrow morning.

Sasha wasn’t able to go because she had a required dance recital for school that weekend. She’d been devastated when she’d gotten the news, but if she didn’t go, she’d fail the course and it would push her graduation date back a semester. Daryl had assured her that he’d be fine without her since he had Paul and Tiana, but she’d still felt bad at having to miss such a big moment for him.

Daryl stretched out on his bed and groaned. His binding bra was pressing uncomfortably against his chest which reminded him how wonderful it was going to be to never have to wear one again. He wouldn’t have to deal with the intense sweat or the marks they left on his skin. More than anything, though, he longed to hug his boyfriend without any extra flesh in between them.

They still hadn’t progressed past kissing, but not from lack of trying. They’d tried letting things go below the belt a few times since their impromptu makeout session after his party a month ago, but each time had resulted in various levels of panic attacks for both of them. It was getting better each time, but they still hadn’t been able to even touch each other under their clothes.

The last time they’d tried, Paul had gently cupped over his jeans while they were kissing. Paul had told Daryl he wanted to try again and he’d agreed. The touch lasted for a while with Paul softly rubbing Daryl through the rough fabric of his pants. It wasn’t until Paul started to move to go under his jeans that he’d freaked out. As for Paul, Daryl had gotten about as far as Paul had.

Daryl knew he wanted Paul to touch him as he was becoming increasingly aroused during each new makeout session, but he just couldn’t get his mind and body on the same page. He kept hoping the more they tried, the more comfortable he’d become as Paul replaced all the horrible memories he had of his father.

There came a light knock on his door from who he assumed was Paul.

“Come in,” Daryl called out and sure enough, it was Paul who entered.

“Hey babe,” Paul said shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” Daryl whispered watching Paul walk over and join him on the bed.

Paul leaned over him and kissed him in greeting. Daryl responded happily to the kiss and moved his hand into Paul’s long hair. Paul smiled against his lips as they kissed. Paul moved one of his hands to cup Daryl’s face as he deepened the kiss.

They hadn’t seen each other for a few days between work, school, and preparing to leave for the trip. Eventually they broke apart and settled down next to each other, arms wrapping around each other. Daryl swallowed nervously. There was something he needed to show Paul before his surgery, but it scared him. He wanted to show Paul his back now because he didn’t want the shock of seeing it to take away from Paul’s first reaction to his flat chest.

“Paul?” Daryl whispered.

“Hmm?” Paul hummed beside him.

“I want to show you something, but promise you won’t freak out.”

Paul sat up slightly in concern for his boyfriend, “What is it?”

“The scars my father left me with aren’t just mental, they’re physical too. I want you to see them so you’re not shocked when you see me without my shirt post surgery.”

“Daryl, you don’t have to... ” Paul tried to tell him.

“I want to,” Daryl assured him sitting up.

Paul watched silently as his boyfriend stood up from the bed and started to pull his shirt off. Paul could tell that Daryl was nervous, neither of them had ever seen the other without all their clothes on.

Since Daryl was facing Paul, at first all he saw was the extremely attractive torso of his boyfriend. From all the dancing, martial arts and just general working out Daryl was doing, he had a pretty solid six pack. The testosterone was starting to make hair grow on his chest in small whisps across his flat stomach. Paul could feel himself becoming aroused at the sight and from the previous kissing, but he knew that this was a serious moment for him and Daryl.

Daryl hesitated only briefly at the bottom of his binding bra before taking a deep breathe and removing the shirt completely. He didn’t look up at Paul at all as he threw the shirt to the ground. Paul waited patiently for Daryl to do whatever it was that he was going to do. In the meantime he was soaking up the vision of his topless boyfriend standing in front of him.

Daryl slowly turned around to reveal his back to Paul. Paul sat up straight upon seeing the deep scars crisscrossing his boyfriend’s back blocked only partially by the bra.

Much to Paul’s surprise, Daryl undid his bra and pulled it off, completely baring his back to Paul. Some of the scars were thick and deep while others were thin and defined. It was like his father had used Daryl back to paint a graphic picture of hatred and violence.

Paul got up off the bed and cautiously move up behind Daryl. He could see him shaking ever so slightly out of nervousness. Not wanting Daryl to feel alone in this vulnerability, Paul pulled off his own shirt and threw it backwards onto the bed. Daryl’s head jerked slightly when he heard the shirt land on the bed, but said nothing.

“Can I touch you?” Paul whispered.

“Yeah...” Daryl murmured, still not looking at Paul afraid of what he would see.

Paul slowly rescue his hand out towards his boyfriend and settled it on his shoulder. From there he traced one of the lines down Daryl’s back causing him to shiver. Paul leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against the top of the scar. He continued kissing down the scar feeling Daryl respond positively to the attention by relaxing into him.

Paul continued to cover the violent remnants of his father’s abuse with love until Daryl was practically puddy in his hands. Paul slid his way back up to his boyfriend’s neck and pressed a kiss to his pulse point. Paul wrapped his arms around Daryl’s torso and pulled him flat against his naked chest. 

“You’re beautiful,” Paul whispered in assurance.

Daryl turned his head back and down to look at Paul. Paul could see the tears of joy in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss him. They kissed slowly, not moving from where they were.

“I love you,” Daryl whispered, not wanting this peacefulness to end anytime soon. 

“I love you, too,” Paul answered in kind, “Every single part of you.”

As he said the last part of that sentence he cautiously move his hand down the front of his boyfriend’s sweatpants and pressed his hand against him. Daryl moaned encouragingly into his mouth and rolled his hips against his hand. Paul took that as a sign that Daryl was on board with this and began to circle his fingers. Soon enough, Daryl was rocking against his hand which had move further between Daryl’s legs to stimulate more of him.

Paul pulled away from the kiss to look into Daryl’s eyes.

“Do you want to try again?” Paul asked.

Daryl nodded, “I want to feel you touch me.”

Paul leaned back in and kissed his boyfriend again, allowing Daryl’s tongue to enter his mouth. As they kissed, Paul slowly removed his hand from between Daryl’s legs and moved it north to slip under the waistband of Daryl’s sweats and briefs. This was as far as they had gotten last time, which Paul’s hand just barely poking beneath Daryl’s clothes. They’d had their shirts on last time too.

This time, however, Daryl didn’t freak out. Instead, he continued right on kissing Paul’s breath away. Paul’s hand continued its slow downward trek until it reached a small, rounded parting in Daryl’s flesh. Paul knew that he had reached the most intimate part of his boyfriend and wasted no time in delving deeper.

Despite being gay, Paul knew quite a bit about female anatomy from his time in foster care—though those are not good memories—and didn’t hesitate to put his knowledge to work. He quickly located Daryl’s clitoris and began rubbing it. Daryl pulled away from the kiss and instead pressed his forehead against Paul’s, groaning in pleasure. Paul continued on using every trick he knew to bring pleasure to his boyfriend. Well, almost every trick. They’d already established that Daryl didn’t like his breast being touched, so Paul kept his free hand on the flat part of Daryl’s stomach.

He debated about the next step, but went ahead with it and ran his fingers down to where Daryl’s hole was. He heard Daryl’s breath catch briefly in his throat, but he rolled his hips as a sign for Paul to keep going. Paul could already feel the slick coming from Daryl’s hole. It was soaking his briefs and coating Paul’s finger as he rubbed across and around it. 

He ran his fingers back up to Daryl’s clit and teased it some more pulling some delicious moans from his boyfriend. He moved back to Daryl’s hole to find it open and getting wetter. Paul leaned in and kissed Daryl as he slowly, cautiously move the tip of his index finger inside his boyfriend.

He felt Daryl’s walls contract slightly around his finger as he waited for Daryl’s reaction. He hoped that Daryl would stay with him, he so badly wanted to give his boyfriend his first real orgasm. Not  brought on by being violated against his will, but through love and desire.

“I’m good,” Daryl assured his boyfriend between kisses, “keep going. I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”

Paul kisses Daryl again who let his tongue inside his mouth. Daryl sucked Paul’s tongue which had the other man moaning as he continued to finger his boyfriend. Paul slowly pushed the rest of his finger inside Daryl before pausing and letting Daryl adjust to having someone inside him again.

Paul waited until he felt Daryl being to roll his hips in encouragement. Knowing that Daryl was still with him, Paul began to gently move his finger in and out of him.

“Feel good babe?” Paul whispered, kissing Daryl’s neck.

“Fuck yes,” he moaned, his hands gripping Paul’s free hand which was still wrapped around his torso tightly.

After a couple minutes, Paul pulled his finger out and added another one beside it. Daryl moaned in approval, throwing his head back in pleasure and rolling his hips in time with Paul’s movements. Paul started to speed up the pace as Daryl’s moans became more desperate and higher pitched. He knew that Daryl was close, but not quite there, so he crooked his fingers causing Daryl to cry out.

“Fuck Paul,” he panted, “right there. Fuck.”

Paul smiled and did exactly what his boyfriend asked, continuing to hit that spot with every thrust of his fingers. He could hear Daryl’s moans increasing and he thanked his lucky stars that Tiana and Sasha weren’t home at the moment or else they would have probably overheard them at this point.

He felt Daryl start to shake slightly in his arms, rocking his hips enthusiastically against Paul’s hand. Paul used his thumb to press hard against Daryl’s clit at the same time as he thrust up to press against Daryl’s sweet spot. Daryl cried out as he welcomes his orgasm for the first time in his life. Paul left more fluid run over his fingers as Daryl’s walls contracted around him. He couldn’t help but groan at the idea of feeling that around his cock someday.

Paul continued to thrust in and out of Daryl’s hole gently to help prolong Daryl’s orgasm. When he felt Daryl’s walls relax around him, he withdrew his fingers from his boyfriend’s pussy and pants. He felt his untouched dick twitch at the sight of the slick of his fingers. He moved his two fingers apart to see that they were so wet that they were still connected by a string of liquid.

Daryl breath was ragged and he was leaning against Paul. Paul knew that they should lay down now despite how much he could feel his own untouched cock begging for attention. He could also feel the wet spot that his precum had created on the front of his boxers. He’d been so caught up in Daryl’s pleasure that he’d totally ignored his own.

Paul carefully maneuvered them onto the bed. Daryl was finally come back to reality after his mind-blowing orgasm and kissed Paul hard as he did. Paul couldn’t help but rub himself through his jeans, they were so painfully right. Unlike Daryl he wasn’t wearing sweatpants and he really needed to relieve the pressure. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, breathing in relief as the intense pressure was lifted.

The sound of the zipper being undone caught Daryl’s attention. He opened his eyes to see that Paul was rubbing his hand across his cock which was obviously very hard. Without hesitation, Daryl knocked Paul’s hand away and replaced it with his own. Paul groaned at the feeling of being touched by Daryl.

“Let me,” Daryl whispered before capturing Paul’s mouth again.

Daryl let his hand wander underneath the fabric of Paul’s boxers and gasped as his hand came into contact with his boyfriend cock for the first time. Daryl wasted no time in pulling it out from his boyfriend’s boxers and wrapping his hand around it. Daryl glanced down at his boyfriend lap, wanting to see what his boyfriend looked like.

He was long, thick, and uncut. The sight of it made Daryl’s mouth water slightly. This had never been a good experience for him, but right now there was nothing he wanted more than to bring pleasure to his boyfriend.

Daryl’s softly ran his fingers up the shaft to tease the head. He tried to use the precum to wet his hand enough to make this comfortable for Paul, but there wasn’t enough. They didn’t have any lube yet so, Daryl leaned down—much to Paul’s utter shock—and licked up Paul’s shaft from the base of his cock to the tip.

He gasped out in shock when he felt his boyfriend’s tongue on him. He moaned out as Daryl’s flicked his tongue against the head of his cock before moving south to tease the sensitive underside. He ran this tongue up the thick vein on the bottom of Paul’s cock making Paul give a full-body shiver of pleasure. It wasn’t long before Daryl wrapped his lips around the head of Paul’s cock and slowly began to take him into his mouth.

Paul’s breath caught in his throat as he felt himself disappearing inside the heat of his beautiful boyfriend’s mouth. Paul felt his cock hit the back of Daryl’s mouth once before Daryl just deepthroated him. Paul moaned out and threw his head back in bliss as Daryl took him right down to the base without any problem at all. He could feel the tight space of Daryl’s throat constricting around the head of his cock. Daryl hollowed his cheeks and began bobbing his head up and down greedily drinking in the taste, smell and sounds of his boyfriend.

“Fuck!” Paul shouted as soon as Daryl started to bob his head.

Paul reached forward and tangled his fingers in Daryl’s hair. Not in a controlling way, but in a gentle, encouraging fashion. Daryl only let up every once in a while when he needed air. He continued, listening to his boyfriend’s moans being more and more desperate as he reached his peak.

“Daryl,” Paul warned through his ragged breaths, “I’m gonna cum. You need to stop unless...”

Daryl, while thankful for the warning, had no intention of pulling off. He had no gag reflex and was fully ready for whatever Paul was going to give him.

“Daryl!” Paul choked out as he came hard inside the wet, hot cavern of Daryl’s mouth.

Daryl swallowed all of it without any difficulty, waiting until he heard Paul whine from oversensitivity before pulling off.

“Holy fuck, babe,” Paul panted, leaning forward to kiss his boyfriend.

He could taste himself on Daryl’s lips, but he didn’t care at all. He was keenly aware that his cock was still hanging out of his boxers and made quick work of tucking it away. He didn’t bother to zip up his pants because he was going to need to change into his pajamas soon.

Paul pulled away from Daryl, still breathing a little hard to notice that Daryl was facing him completely with no shirt or bra on at all. This was the first time he’d ever seen Daryl’s breasts.

Daryl noticed him looking and immediately tried to cover them, but Paul quickly stopped him.

“It’s okay, they’re part of you,” Paul assured him softly, “I know you don’t like them, but they don’t make me see you as any less of a man.”

Daryl smiled at him and let his arms drop away from his chest. It was like the last barrier between them had finally broken down. Paul had proved to Daryl that his body would never make him see Daryl as less of a man and Daryl have proved to Paul that they could trust each other with their bodies in intimate ways.

Exhausted, Daryl got up and threw on a tank top before climbing into bed. Paul waited until Daryl was facing the other way to take off his jeans fully and slip on his pajama pants. Normally he would sleep in a shirt, but tonight he wanted to try going without one. Paul crawled into the bed and Daryl immediately snuggled up to him, pulling Paul flush against just like he always did.

“I like you without your shirt on,” Daryl admitted, running his fingers across the expanse of bare flesh in front of him.

“That’s good, because I prefer sleeping shirtless anyway.”

“Love you, Paul,” Daryl murmured falling asleep.

“I love you, too,” Paul whispered kissing his boyfriend of the forehead before cuddling up to his side and joining him in sleep.


	17. Surgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl gets his top surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did do some research about top surgery and I hope that I got most of the details right in this. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The Daryl shook his foot nervously as he waited for Dr. Pierce to arrive to prepare him for surgery. His Ma was standing next to him rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. Paul was outside in the lobby because only official family members are allowed into the pre-op area except under special circumstances. Daryl had tried to protest, but Paul promised him that he’d be right outside if Daryl needed him.

His stomach a knot of dread, excitement, and nervousness as he waited in silence laying on the soft hospital bed. They’d already met with the nurse, so now they were just waiting on Dr. Pierce and the anesthesiologist. It felt like an eternity that they stayed there before the curtain was pushed to the side just slightly to allow Dr. Pierce to enter. She had jet black hair and brilliant blue eyes. She smiled wide as her eyes landed on him sitting there.

“Hi, Daryl,” she greeted him warmly, holding out her hand.

“Hey, Dr. Pierce,” he replied awkwardly, accepting her hand briefly before quickly dropping it. 

“Mrs. Williams,” she greeted Tiana.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this,” Tiana said gratefully.

“Of course,” she replied immediately, “Everyone deserves to be comfortable with themselves and if doctors can help with that in any way, I believe that it is our duty to help.”

“That’s a nice philosophy,” Tiana said surprised at her openness.

“I like to think so, too bad not all of my fellow doctors agree,” she spoke mournfully, “Now, let’s get down to business. I know that sometimes the waiting is worse than the recovery.”

With the formalities out of the way and Daryl and Tiana’s apprehension somewhat nullified, the process of preparing Daryl for his surgery began. She gently coaxed him to open the front of his hospital gown so that she could draw out the surgery lines. It didn’t take as long as Daryl had anticipated it taking.

“Can Paul come in before we go to the actual surgery area?” Daryl asked hesitantly, picking at the gown.

“Sure,” Dr. Pierce agreed, “The anesthesiologist is here to administer the anesthesia, but he should be done before I get back. What’s his name again?”

“Paul Rovia, he’s got really long brown hair,” Daryl described him slightly for her.

“Okay, thank you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

While he was at first surprised that the doctor was allowing him to see Daryl right now, he wasn’t going to question it. Paul smiled softly at him when he saw him in his surgical gown, laying on the hospital bed. Paul didn’t say anything as he made his way over to Daryl. He wrapped his arms around him, paying close attention to his IV. Daryl clung to him like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of Paul’s neck. He could feel Daryl shaking slightly as he held him, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was nervousness, excitement, or both. 

He felt Daryl pull away just a bit only to lean back in and kiss him softly. Paul welcomed the kiss and tried to transfer all of his support and love through that one kiss since Daryl didn’t seem to be in a talking mood. Daryl pulled away from the kiss and proceeded to bury his face back in Paul’s neck. One of his hands left Paul’s side to reach out to Tiana who immediately joined he embrace.

They didn’t ever talk about it, but both Paul and Tiana knew they wouldn’t leave the embrace until Daryl willingly broke it. So, they both stood there holding him, allowing Daryl to soak in their love, reassurance, and support in his own way. It was a couple minutes before Daryl started to pull away reluctantly because he knew the doctor would be back soon. He couldn’t look either of them in the face, he was too scared about the “what if’s” of the procedure. What if something goes wrong? What if he still hates his body after all this? What if Paul stopped feeling attracted to him?

“I can see you overthinking this,” Paul whispered gently, “We’re both going to be here for you every step of the way, no matter what happens.”

Daryl nodded, feeling slightly reassured by his words.

“I love you both,” Daryl murmured, just loud enough for them to hear, looking up at them, “Be there when I wake up?”

“Of course,” his mother assured him immediately and he could see Paul nodded next to her.

Daryl gave them both a half smile just as the doctor reentered the room.   
“Are you ready, Daryl?” she asked him, leaning in around the door.

“Yeah, I am,” he said more confidently than he felt.

Paul gave him one last kiss on the cheek and his mother squeezed his hand before the doctor gave okay for him to be taken to the surgery room.

* * *

Paul watched as they wheeled Daryl away. He was excited that Daryl was finally going to get the surgery he so desperately wanted and needed, but he was terrified that something might go wrong. Even the safest surgery in the world has risks to it. He’d met with the doctor and researched her online, so he knew she was competent. But that was his boyfriend in there, the only man he’s ever loved and the idea of losing him scared the shit out of him.

He tried to sit calmly in the waiting area, but he couldn’t stay still. Eventually, he found himself pacing around the room in an effort to keep himself from going insane. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tiana watching him. He could see the worry on her face and he wondered if it was all for Daryl or some for him as well. She’d really become a sort of mother figure for him since he started dating Daryl. Of course he would never see her as his mother because he’s dating her son, but without his real mom around, it was difficult to not see her as a maternal figure.

He sighed and gave up on pacing and went over to sit next to Tiana. She immediately placed her hand over his, rubbing the back of his hand in a soothing manner. He felt a bit guilty now about focusing solely on how this was making him feel. Daryl wasn’t just his boyfriend, he was Tiana’s son and she loved him deeply. She’s spent years protecting and nurturing Daryl even before he escaped his father. 

“Hey,” she whispered, “he’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Paul murmured, “I know he will be, but I can’t help but think about the ‘what if’s’ that go along with this surgery.”

“It’s best not to dwell on what can go wrong. Instead, think about how much this is going to help him. Besides, no matter the outcome, we’ll continue to love and support him.”

“Always,” Paul agreed firmly.

* * *

When Daryl first came to, he couldn’t even muster up the strength to open his eyes. He could hear whispers of conversation around him. His thoughts were muddled and distance and it wasn’t long before he’d dropped back off. The next time he came to, he could just barely open his eyes. He managed to open them just enough to get blinded by the intense white light of the room causing him to immediately close his eyes again. His thoughts, while more concrete, were still hard to grasp. He felt the warmth from someone laying their hand over his as he drifted off again.

It wasn’t until the third time that he came to that he was able to force his eyes open to look around. The first thing he saw was the ceiling and flinched at the bright light. He slowly moved his head to the side and saw his mother sleeping in the chair next to him. When he didn’t see Paul, he turned his head sluggishly to the other side and was greeted by his boyfriend’s smiling face.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he teased softly, “how do you feel?”

Daryl tried to speak, but his throat was really dry, something he hadn’t noticed before.

“Okay,” he croaked, “Water?”

“Yeah, they said you’d be thirsty when you woke up,” Paul chuckled reaching for the cup of water the nurse had brought them.

He carefully lifted the cup to Daryl’s lips and helped him drink. Daryl wanted to help, but his limbs felt like lead. He allowed Paul to slip his hand under his head and lift it up to drink. Even with Paul’s help, he only managed to take a few small sips. This mind was so sluggish and his lips felt about twice the size they normally were.

Daryl desperately wanted to look down at his chest, but he was scared. What if the doctor didn’t do a good job? What if it’s just a huge mess of mangled flesh now?

“Paul,” he croaked looking him in the eye, “How’s it look?”

Paul smiled genuinely at him, “It looks great, babe. Dr. Pierce did a wonderful job. She came by earlier and told us that everything went smoothly and perfectly.”

Reassured by Paul’s words, he finally dared to look down at his chest. He’d only just laid eyes on himself when he burst into tears of joy. Looking down and not seeing the raise mounds of flesh on his chest had been one of the best moments of his life. It felt so good to be rid of something that he didn’t identify with.

Of course, he couldn’t see the full end result because of all the bandages wrapped around his chest and then covered by a compression vest. It was almost like he was being eased into such a big change. He kind of liked that idea no matter how much he’d wanted this. Seeing himself one minute with breasts and the next without would’ve been very jarring even if it was an exciting idea.

He looked over at his mother again and noticed her slowly blinking herself awake.

“Ma?” he said, his voice still strained.

When she heard his voice, she quickly snapped out of her drowsy state to look at him. Her face broke out into a huge smile as she looked at her son.

“How are you feeling?” she spoke quietly, rolling closer to him in her chair.

“Like my body’s stuck in molasses,” he joked, giving her a smile.

She laughed softly, it was nice to see him so carefree so soon after such a major surgery.

“When can I go home?” he asked.

“Dr. Pierce said they were going to keep you here for at least tonight and tomorrow to keep an eye on you and your recovery progress. Depending on how you feel after that, they’ll let you go home.”   
“I guess it’s a good thing you booked the hotel for a couple extra nights.”

“Yeah, but we’ll probably be here most of the time to keep you company. Someone should be back soon to take us to your room.”

Daryl nodded, he didn’t particularly want to stay here for that long, but he knew it was for his own good. It was important that Dr. Pierce keep and eye on him for the next couple of days before he goes home to Georgia where nobody specialized in this kind of reconstructive surgery. As it was, Dr. Peletier had volunteered to attend a couple of seminars about reconstructive surgery so that she could keep an eye on him when he did go back home. 

“Nah, you guys should go explore Florida a bit. You shouldn’t have to stay cooped up in here with me.”

Paul rolled his eyes, “If you think for one second that we are going to leave you alone in this sterile hospital except to go sleep, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Tiana nodded her agreement, “Maybe we can go on a small vacation once you’re all healed.”

“But...” Daryl tried to protest.

“Uh uh, no. We’re staying here and that’s final,” Tiana told him firmly.

Daryl sighed in defeat, he knew he wasn’t going to change their minds no matter what he said.

“Can you at least go back to the hotel and grab the games we brought? Just staying in my room and doing nothing over the next couple days is going to be extremely boring without them.”

“Of course, as soon as you’re all settled in your room, I’ll go get you some ice cream and the games,” Tiana promised him.

“Thanks, Ma,” Daryl smiled brightly at his mother.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Dr. Pierce came back to check on him.

“It’s good to see that you’re awake and talking,” she said writing something down on the chart hanging from his bed, “I’ll let the nurses know that you’re ready to be moved to your room. Feeling any pain?”

“Mild pain, but nothing severe. I’m mostly just tired,” Daryl replied.

“That’s good to hear. The surgery went great and while we normally let patients go home the day of the surgery, I want to keep you for a couple days since you’re home is so far away from me. It’s important that everything is healing the way I want it to before I sent you back to Georgia.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I’ll send nurses right over.”

She left after waving good-bye to Paul and Tiana. They didn’t have to wait long for two nurses to come over and take them to his room. They helped him out of the bed and into a wheelchair to make it easier for them to move between floors. His room is on the fourth floor of the hospital surrounded by a bunch of people also recovering from various surgeries. They wheeled him into an empty room and helped into the bed by the window per his request. He much preferred to be closer to the sun than closer to the sterile hallway of the hospital. After making sure he had everything he needed, they left to see to their other patients.

Daryl immediately chose to change into some underwear and regular sweatpants. He hated the front-open gown that he’d been given. He wasn’t allowed to wear a shirt just yet, but in this private room, he didn’t care too much.

Tiana placed his clothes on a chair beneath the window sill, “I’ll be back soon.”

She kissed Daryl good-bye and hugged Paul before leaving to get the promised ice cream and games. She closed the door behind her to give the two boys some privacy beyond the flimsy curtain hanging by the bed. Paul forewent sitting in the normal chairs for hopping up onto Daryl’s hospital bed, straddling his boyfriend’s legs.

“Happy that it’s over?” Paul asked his boyfriend.

“Yeah, but it’s not over yet. Recovery is the longest part of all this.”

“True, but it’ll be different now, don’t you think?” he asked, “Now that your breasts are gone, you’ll be able to physically see your chest coming together.”

Daryl smiled at the thought, “And I’ll have you by my side the whole time.”

“Always,” Paul assured him, leaning in for a kiss.

Daryl eagerly returned the kiss. He felt Paul leaned over further and brace himself on either side of his head. Paul’s hair fell all around them basically cocooning them in a world of their own. Their lips moved together languidly as they savored the kiss. Daryl slowly lifted, with a small amount of effort, his hands to tangle in Paul’s long hair. He felt Paul’s tongue run over his bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter. Daryl gladly let Paul’s tongue inside to caress his own tongue. Their tongues slid together in a passion filled show of love between the two.

Daryl could feel himself becoming aroused, heat pooling between his legs, and was startled by a loud beep that came from the monitor tracking his heart rate. The two broke apart to see what was going on only to see that Daryl’s heart rate had spiked, sending an alert to the nurse’s desk. Sure enough, about ten seconds later a nurse came into the room to see Paul straddling Daryl and leant over him. Both Daryl and Paul turned bright red upon meeting the gaze of the nurse who’d come to check on Daryl.

“Sorry!” Paul yelped in embarrassment, clearing his throat nervously while Daryl covered his face with his hands.

The nurse just smiled and rolled her eyes before leaving them alone again. Paul figured by that reaction that she was used to coming in and seeing couples doing this since an elevated heart rate was a side effect of arousal.

Paul cleared his throat again, “I think I should get down now.”

“Yeah, maybe not the best idea to do that while I’m hooked up to a heart monitor.”

Paul giggled lightly at Daryl’s comment as he slid off his boyfriend’s lap. Daryl groaned at the loss of heat on his lap. He didn’t particularly want Paul to get off him, but he also didn’t want a nurse coming in every other minute to check on him because his heart rate went nuts or something. 

“Oh my god, that was so embarrassing,” Daryl said into his hands as Paul sat down on a chair next to his bed.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s used to that though. I’m just glad we didn’t get any further than kissing,” Paul’s cheeks were still quite red.

“We were far enough,” Daryl said shifting slightly.

“I know what you mean,” Paul said practically mortified.

“Yeah, except yours doesn’t normally leave your clean underwear wet and sticky too much.”

“Right, do you want another pair?” Paul asked awkwardly.

“Nah, only brought enough pairs to last me today and tomorrow. The last thing I want is to have to ask my Ma to get me more underwear because of what we were doing.”

Paul blushed harder at the idea of having to ask Tiana to pick Daryl up fresh underwear when they made sure he had enough to last the next few days.

“Sorry, baby,” Paul apologized rubbing his hand over Daryl’s forearm.

“It’s fine, it’s only mildly annoying,” Daryl assured him, “it should dry up soon enough.”

Paul laid his head on Daryl’s arm to try and hide his embarrassment at the situation. It wasn’t too long, however, before the awkwardness was forgotten and the two were laughing and joking like normal while they waited for Tiana to return.

When Tiana came back, she had not only three ice cream sundays and games, but subways complete with cookies. The two boys eagerly dug into their sandwiches and desserts as soon as Tiana set them down on Daryl’s bedside table.

“Thanks for not making me eat hospital food,” Daryl said through a mouthful of ham, turkey, lettuce, and swiss cheese.

“I remember hospital food from when I had Sasha, I would never wish it upon my worst enemy,” she promised him.

Paul laughed at her comment, “I agree, hospital food sucks.”

* * *

Daryl was released on time two days later since Dr. Pierce was pleased with how he was healing. He had finally seen his chest fully without the bandages yesterday when the nurse had come in to teach Tiana and Paul how to change his bandages. His chest was swollen and bruised all over, but the lack of breasts was comforting and was completely worth all the discomfort he was feeling. They’d given him a special cream to help his scars heal so that they’d be almost invisible if his chest hair grew in like he was hoping it would. Even if that didn’t happen, however, he was assured that they would be pretty much invisible to anyone who didn’t know what to look for.

His nipples looked great, which was a weird thing to notice, but he was happy to see that they look normal, like Paul’s. He didn’t have much overhead range with his arms right now, so he was pretty limited to either getting helping putting on a shirt or pulling on a flannel. He didn’t mind it too much, however, since he knew that he’d have his full range of motion back soon enough as long as he kept up with his exercises.

Paul and Tiana surprised him with a quick trip to the beach before heading back home. He wasn’t allowed to go into the water, but he could stand on the shore and appreciate the cool water flowing over his feet. He had at one point shoved Paul into an incoming wave using his foot, but Paul hadn’t been offended. He’d just vowed to get him back once his chest was healed while flicking his wet hair out of his eyes. Daryl had gulped upon seeing Paul soaked in only swim trunks and filed the image away for later. Paul had caught him looking and proceeded to subtly moon him from the water when his mother went to use the restroom. Luckily, it wasn’t a crowded beach and nobody else has seen it happen.

Despite all the excitement of the past couple days, Daryl was happy to be pulling into the driveway of his own home. He couldn’t wait to see Sasha whom he’d called the night before. She couldn’t wait to see what he looked like with a flat chest. She was disappointed that hugging was off the table for the next couple weeks, but she knew it was to keep his stitches safe.

Daryl unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car after shaking Paul to wake him up. He’d fallen asleep somewhere near the Florida, Georgia border and hadn’t woken up yet.

“Mmm!” Paul grumbled, when he felt Daryl trying to rouse him.

“Get up, Paul,” Daryl said happily, “We’re home.”

Paul groaned again, but relented and followed Daryl out of the car.

He slapped Daryl’s hand away from his luggage being quick to remind him he wasn’t allowed to do that just yet. It was Daryl’s turn to groan in frustration, but he let it go and made his way towards the house. Before he could reach the first step, however, the door flung open to reveal a very excited Sasha.

“Daryl! You’re back,” she cheered, “and you look so good.”

For a second Daryl was worried she was going to forget and hug him as tightly as she normally does, but she stopped short and kissed him on the cheek instead.

“Thanks,” he said, shuffling his feet on the ground.

“How’d it go?”

“Good. We went to the beach this morning before heading home. Paul especially needs a shower.”

“Hey!” Paul called from the back of the car, “That wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who got me wet.”

Daryl chuckled, “Well, I was always taught to seize every opportunity that comes my way.”

“Asshole,” Paul said sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend, “I’m gonna get you back for that one. The minute you’re healed, you’re turtle chow.”

They all burst out laughing at Paul’s hilarious threat about turning Daryl into turtle food. Soon enough Paul was unable to hold a straight face and joined it.

It felt good to be home.

 


	18. Healing

The healing process had been a long and difficult one for Daryl. He disliked being unable to do basic things like taking a shower by himself and wearing t-shirts. He’d only been allowed to wear button-up shirts because he couldn’t lift his arms over his head. Tiana had helped bathe him until he was well enough to finally take showers again. Daryl might’ve asked Paul since they were dating, but he didn’t want the first time for Paul to see him fully naked to be when he was gross, dirty, and covered in yellow-ish bruises.

The bruising had been persistent and annoying. He thought it looked ugly, but Paul never stopped telling him how good he looked every chance he got which helped immensely. Sasha was also a great support whenever he found himself doubting himself. His dance friends had wanted to come over and see him, but he wanted to wait until he was healed. His classmates had been super happy for him when he’d shown up on Monday for classes after his surgery. He’d found himself very shy and nervous with the sudden attention, but it was nice to know that they supported him. It’s why he moved schools after all.

The hardest part for him was trying to sleep. Even with the pain medication Dr. Pierce had given him, he was still in quite a bit of pain when he tried to sleep. He normally likes to sleep on his side, but he was only allowed to sleep on his back because of the stitches on his chest. It made him even more grumpy when Paul slept over and they couldn’t cuddle up before going to sleep like they normally did.

Overall, Daryl couldn’t wait for the healing process to be over so he could fully enjoy the results of this life-changing surgery.

* * *

It has been about three months since the surgery now, so the swelling and bruising was long gone and most of the pain had faded. The scars were also fading quite nicely with the help of the expensive scar cream and his growing chest hair. He could cuddle up with his boyfriend whenever he wanted now and dress himself. He’d greatly savored the first time he’d been able to shower by himself instead of getting a bath from his Ma. He’d begun working out with Paul again and returned to the dance club. They’d all gushed over how good his chest looked making him try to hide behind Paul and Sasha. He had become more used to attention over the years, but he still didn’t like to be the center of attention.

His school graduation was next week, making him both nervous and excited. With his finals over he was working at Dale’s garage more now than he normally did. He’d had to wait about a month after the surgery to go back to the shop. Even then he was only allowed to do the easy stuff like cleaning and organizing the garage. He’s only been back doing his real job for about a week and a half. He absolutely loved working on cars and had deeply missed doing it.

He knew Paul was planning a graduation party for him, despite him saying he didn’t want one. When he told his family he didn’t want a party they’d all pretty much ignored him.

“Consider it a celebration of how far we’ve come as a family since the day Sasha met you,” Tiana had told him.

Daryl had just rolled his eyes and let them do whatever they wanted to do. If all he had to do was show up, he could handle that. He still remembered how much he’d enjoyed his birthday party, so he knew he’d at least enjoy the party. Also, just like his birthday party, he wasn't allowed to know anything about what they were planning now that he’d expressed his disinterest in being apart of the planning process.

* * *

Paul was laying on his dorm room bed, that he paid to stay in over the summer, with his head resting on Daryl’s lap reading while Daryl played with his hair and half-watching some crap TV.

“You sure you can’t tell me a thing?” Daryl asked absentmindedly.

“You’re the one who didn’t want to help plan your own grad party,” Paul reminded him, patiently turning the page of his book.

Daryl groaned at hearing Paul usual response.

“Oh hush,” Paul scolded teasingly, “You had your chance and all you said was ‘I’d rather work on cars all day than plan a party.’”

“Shut up, I forgot how painful all the wondering was.”

Paul giggled at Daryl’s response. He placed a bookmark in his book and sat up.

“Are you feeling left out?” Paul asked sweetly, maneuvering onto his knees next to Daryl.

Daryl threw him an annoyed glare, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. Paul chuckled at his reaction and instead of teasing him more, much to Daryl’s joy, leaned in and kissed him. Daryl returned the kiss eagerly, treading his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. Daryl hadn’t even really thought about doing anything since being caught by the nurse back at the hospital three months ago. He had simply been in too much pain or too self conscious to to want to try anything.

Paul, however, had been thinking about going further, at least for Daryl, ever since the impromptu blowjob he’d received before Daryl’s surgery. He’d immensely enjoyed it, but later he’d felt bad for not returning the favor. When he told Daryl about it, he’d just rolled his eyes and told him not to worry about it. He’d been perfectly happy with what he’d received. Paul knew how much pleasure going down on Daryl could bring his boyfriend, but he also didn’t want to push him.

Daryl kissed him with a passion that had Paul’s cock hardening in his sweats, something Daryl would easily notice when they broke the kiss. It was something Paul didn’t want him to notice just yet, wanting all of the attention right now to be on his boyfriend.

They kissed for a good while and Paul notice the shifting on the bed and slight rocking of hips that indicated that Daryl was very much in the same position as he was. With much difficulty, Paul broke the kiss. He knew he needed to ask Daryl’s permission before doing anything like he planned on. It would be the first time Paul has seen that part of Daryl and he wasn’t sure if Daryl was ready for that. Paul had only ever seen him shirtless a handful of times post surgery and that was mainly to help change his bandages and apply the scar cream.

“Daryl?” Paul began to get his attention.

“Hmm?” Daryl hummed, trying to get Paul to kiss him again by coating his throat with feather light kisses.

“Daryl,” Paul moaned, tilting his head back, “Seriously, I need... I need to ask you... something.”

“What?” he mumbled continuing on with his work.

“Daryl, come on, this is a serious question,” Paul said firmly, pushing Daryl away lightly.

Daryl’s concerned gaze met Paul’s after a moment, “What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Paul was quick to comfort Daryl, “I just wanted to know if you’d be open to trying something that I’ve wanted to do for a long while?”

Now he just looked confused, “What do you want to try?”

“I want to oral you like you did me.”

“Paul, I already told you that you don’t have to...”

“I want to,” Paul promised him, “but only if you’re ready for something like that, of course.”

Daryl swallowed nervously, ducking his head slightly, “Yeah, it’ll be nice to experience something...”

Paul searched his face trying to catch his eye, “To experience something, what?”

“A first that nobody ever took from me,” he finished shyly.

They normally didn’t like to bring up their past abuse during such intimate moments, but it was rare for Daryl to have something that hadn’t been taken from him by his father.

Paul smiled at his boyfriend, “So, you’re okay with us taking this step?”

“Yeah,” Daryl whispered nodding slightly, “I love and trust you completely.”

Paul kissed him hard on the mouth, moaning when Daryl let his tongue into his mouth. They broke the initial kiss, but continued sharing short peck as they moved down onto the bed so that Daryl was laying underneath Paul. Paul, at the moment, was sitting on Daryl’s legs just to let him get used to having him over him. The last thing Paul wanted was for Daryl to have a flashback from them trying to move too quickly.

Daryl appreciated Paul asking him for his permission before trying something so intimate with him. He was still quite nervous because this was going to mark the first time Paul has seen the most intimate part of him. A part of himself that he sometimes didn’t know what to think about. He wished he had a penis, but at the same time the idea of him maybe being able to give him and Paul children someday was nice. He loved children so much and the thought that he could bring a mini version of him and Paul into the world brought him some joy. He knows that not every transgender man liked that they could bear children, but he found the idea rather nice. For him personally, it was like the blessing hidden inside the bitter curse that had brought him so much pain and body issues in his life. It wasn’t something he’d told Paul just yet, unsure how to broach the subject.

He was brought back to the present when Paul pulled at the hem of his shirt.

“Are you okay with taking this off, or would you rather keep it on?” he asked.

“Um, I’d rather it be on this time,” Daryl admitted, “It might help ease my nerves if I’m not totally naked.”

“Of course, babe,” Paul comforted him.

They kissed again before Paul sat all the way up.

“I’m going to try to remove your pants now, okay?”

Daryl nodded his encouragement. After getting Daryl’s permission, Paul moved in between his legs and reached for his belt. Daryl jumped slightly when he heard Paul unclasp his belt buckle, but quickly assured Paul that he was fine. Paul pulled gently at the hem of his pants and slowly pulled them down his legs leaving Daryl in only his underwear, which had a rather sizable wet spot in the middle, and packer. Paul paused and looked up at Daryl from where he was positioned at his feet. With the top surgery now behind them and the packer in place, anyone who saw Daryl would’ve believed that he had been born the gender he was inside. 

Paul had always found his boyfriend extremely attractive, but the more Daryl became his true self, the more attracted Paul became. It was like with each passing Daryl he fell in love with his boyfriend even more. Hell, if Daryl had decided to not have top surgery he was sure he’d still feel the same way because it was Daryl and there was absolutely nothing to not love about him.

Paul reached up and curled his fingers around the top of Daryl’s underwear before glancing up to make sure Daryl was still on board with this. He met Daryl’s gaze who nodded his consent. Paul pulled the damp underwear down his boyfriend’s legs and let them fall somewhere near the pants on the floor. He looked up at his now half-naked boyfriend who was very clearly nervous about Paul’s reaction to seeing the more feminine part of him where a gay man would normally want to see a penis.

Paul slowly made his way back up Daryl’s body, not touching his vagina, and kissed his boyfriend deeply to reassure him. Daryl responded just as eagerly before, but also with a hint of relief that Paul didn’t find his vagina off-putting in any way. He felt Paul run a hand down from his neck, over his flat chest, to hover just above his most intimate area. He could feel Paul rubbing him just above his slit, almost as a way to ease him into the situation. As Paul kept kissing him as his hand slipped lower to stimulate his clitoris causing Daryl to groan into his boyfriend’s mouth.

Paul stayed there for a few moments before moving lower to spread Daryl open with his fingers. Daryl could feel the cool air on his wet center causing him to shiver slightly. Catching his boyfriend’s shiver, Paul ran his fingers down to his hole pulling more delicious noises from Daryl. He rubbed two fingers around his opening groaning himself when he felt it flutter at his ministrations. He ran his fingers back up to Daryl’s clit, pressing against it and rubbing.

“Paul!” Daryl moaned, throwing his head back.

Paul smirked to himself as he left the clit and returned to his boyfriend’s opening. He gently pressed one finger inside causing Daryl to let out a long drawn out whine of pleasure. Paul didn’t waste any time in starting to thrust his finger in and out. He kissed Daryl a few more times before pulling his finger out, much to Daryl’s disappointment. He wasn’t disappointed for long though as Paul moved to lay between Daryl’s legs, his head positioned just below his vagina.

Daryl blushed at the sight of Paul laying in between his spread legs, looking at his vagina. He felt Paul’s finger return to his hole, pushing in once again. This time, however, the finger was accompanied by the sensation of Paul’s mouth covering his clit.

Daryl gasped out in shock as Paul hot, wet tongue started to flick against his clit. He could feel his thick beard brushing against the sides of his legs. His moans turned into high pitched whines as Paul continued to thrust with his finger and lav his tongue against his most sensitive part. He twisted his hands into the fabric of Paul’s comforter not knowing what else to do with them. As for Paul, the hand that wasn’t currently thrusting in and out of his boyfriend was wrapped around Daryl’s left leg for purchase.

Daryl could feel Paul’s tongue slipping lower, the heat of his tongue mixing with cool slick coating his slit causing a spike of pleasure to run up his spine. His beard scraping against Daryl’s sensitive flesh in the most delicious way. He was definitely going to have a bit of beard burn after this, but he didn’t care.

Paul licked around his finger that was still thrusting in and out of Daryl. He could taste the slick coming out of Daryl every time he pulled his finger back out. It has a quite salty, but not wholly unpleasant taste. He decided to fully remove his finger and replace it with his tongue, something Daryl hadn’t been expecting. When he felt Paul’s thick, hot tongue wiggle it’s way into his opening, he gasped out in shock which quickly morphed into extreme pleasure.

He could feel Paul’s tongue wiggling around against his inner walls, causing his legs to shake slightly. Daryl’s right hand flew down to tangle into Paul’s hair, as he moaned out loudly throwing his head back. He couldn’t help but rock his hips slightly against his boyfriend’s mouth. He felt Paul roll his head with the thrusts, which encouraged Daryl to keep doing the minuscule movements with his hips. Paul tongue darted out of Daryl’s hole, ran up to his clit where Paul sucked pulling more gasps of pleasure from Daryl. He pulled off slightly only to blow gently on Daryl’s wet, winking hole. The cool air against him caused him to shiver in pleasure.

Paul immediately dove back in, licking broad stripes from Daryl’s hole to his clit, flicking his tongue against his clit each time.

He could tell that Daryl was getting close as his moans became more breathy and high pitched. In response, Paul drove his tongue back inside his boyfriend trying to reach in as far as he could. He heard Daryl yelp out his name above him, which only spurred him on. He used his finger, covered in Daryl’s juices, to rub his clit while he wiggled his tongue inside him.

“Paul! I’m gonna...” Daryl tried to warn him, but was unable to finish the sentence.

He came hard with a loud shout and Paul moaned against him when he felt and tasted the rush of fluid flow out of his boyfriend and coat his lips and beard. He could feel his hips stuttering around his head as Daryl came. He kept wiggling his tongue inside to help prolong the orgasm as much as possible. He didn’t pull away until he felt the hand in his hair pull on him slightly and hear Daryl whine from over-sensitivity.

Paul climbed back up his boyfriend’s body to kiss him hard on the mouth. Daryl could taste himself on his boyfriend’s lip, but he didn’t care. He felt Paul’s hard-on poking against his leg. He used his upper strength to flip them over so that Paul was under him. Paul yelp of surprise as his back hit the mattress made Daryl smile.

Daryl didn’t waste any time in working his way down Paul’s body. Paul was quick to catch onto what Daryl was planning.

“Daryl, you don’t have to...” he breathed out heavily.

“I want to,” Daryl told him between kisses on the small sliver of flesh that had poked out from under Paul’s shirt.

Daryl made quick work of Paul’s pants and boxers, having his hand on Paul’s cock in no time. Paul let himself relax against his pillows as he felt Daryl run his tongue up his shaft to swirl around the head. Daryl could tell that Paul was already close so he decided not to tease him this time. He placed his mouth around the head of Paul’s cock and, without any warning at all, deep throated his boyfriend in one go.

Paul shouted in shock as the sudden heat enveloped him, the tip of his cock hitting the back of Daryl’s throat. He cried out as Daryl swallowed around him, his throat muscles constricting around the sensitive head of his cock. His moans turned almost guttural when Daryl started bobbing his head, deep throating him each time. Paul reached down and held onto his boyfriend’s short hair just for some kind of purchase, not controlling him at all.

“Daryl I’m...” he yelped as a warning.

When Daryl heard him, he went down on him as far as he could and swallowed. The sensation was all it took to push Paul right over the edge and he came shouting Daryl’s name. He was really thankful all his neighbors had gone home for the summer right now. Daryl swallowed everything Paul gave him without a problem before pulling off. He jacked him lightly for a little bit to prolong the sensation, but not so long as to cause him to be oversensitive.

“Fuck babe,” Paul groaned as he came down from his high.

“That good huh?” Daryl asked shyly ducking his head.

“Yeah. Was it as good for you?”

“I loved it,” Daryl assured him, leaning in to kiss him.

Paul could taste himself mixing with Daryl as their lips and tongues collided. He wanted to keep kissing, but the drying cum in his beard was starting to become quite itchy.

“Daryl, I’d love to stay here all day, but I need to wash my face.”

Daryl blushed a deep rose color when he said that, but let Paul out of his grip. Paul got up and went into his attached bathroom taking a quick piss before washing all of Daryl’s cum out of his beard. Paul also took a second to brush his teeth to avoid the bad breath he was sure going to have if he left it. Daryl went in after him to pee and brush his teeth as well.

Daryl changed into his pajamas when he came back out to see Paul doing the same. They both cuddled up together on Paul’s bed in their favorite sleeping positions, Paul resting his head on Daryl’s newly flat chest and Daryl wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“So...” Daryl drawled, “after that amazing blow job, can I now persuade you to tell me anything about my grad party.”

Paul snorted against Daryl’s chest, “Fine. One little hint, we’re having a special guest.”

“Who?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“I hate you,” Daryl grumbled.

“No you don’t,” Paul quipped, snuggling closer.

Daryl sighed deeply, smiling fondly at Paul, “No, I don’t.”

He kissed the top of Paul’s head before drifting off to sleep.


	19. Coming Home

Daryl groaned as he pulled himself out of his bed. He really just wanted to lay in bed for a while longer after his late night last night with Sasha, but he had a graduation party to help setup for. He grabbed his binding bra out of his top drawer and had it halfway on before remembering that he no longer needed it. He really needed to sell them to someone else who does and get them out of his room. He grabbed his favorite t-shirt and jeans from his closet and made his way out into the living room. 

He could smell his Ma cooking in the kitchen and hear Sasha still snoring away in her bedroom. He chuckled as he walked by, “ _ I’ll be able to get up early’ _ my ass.”

He made his way outside into his backyard to start putting up the tables that they’d rented. He clicked the legs into place and pushed them upright. They’d rented five tables total, one for the food spread and the other four for guests to sit at and enjoy their meal. He moved onto the chairs quickly, snapping them all into the correct position and placing them around the tables.

He used tape to secure the dark blue plastic table cloths to each table. They really didn’t want to pay the cleaning fee if someone managed to stain one of the tables. The dance floor from his birthday party still needed to come back out and be set up. He breathed heavily under the heat of the sun wishing Paul or Sasha would magically appear to help him.

By the time Sasha wandered out into the yard, he already had most of the dance floor out of the storage shed. 

“Hey look,” he called out to her, “she’s alive.”

“Shut up,” Sasha grumbled, “I never should’ve let you convince me to watch that last movie.”

Daryl snickered at her as he slowly made her way over to him. She grumbled under her breath as she helped him put the dance floor together. When they were finished, she just laid down on it in a starfish position.

“Just leave me here to die,” she moaned wiping the sweat off her forehead.

Daryl had no intention of doing that. He quietly walked over to her and shoved his fingers against her stomach proceeding to tickle her.

“Ah! No!” she screamed and tried to move away.

“This is what you get for sleeping in and making me do most of the work,” he teased her, continuing his assault on her stomach.

She yelled out her protests and tried to push his arms away while laughing hysterically. Eventually, she gave up trying to push his arms away and instead started to fight back by tickling him. He yelped when he felt her fingers against his side. She cackled evilly having located his weak spot and gaining the upper hand. She used the skills Paul had taught her to wrap her leg around Daryl’s waist and push him under her.

She proceeded to torture him by relentlessly tickling his sides. She continued her assault until she heard him yell, “Truce!”

She rolled off of him laughing so hard she could barely breathe. She could hear Daryl gasping for air next to her as he recovered from her revenge.

“Well,” she breathed heavily, “I’m awake now.”

“You’re welcome,” Daryl said between gasps for air.

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“You are what you eat,” he chuckled.

“Oh my god,” she groaned covering her ears, “You did  _ not _ just say that.”

“Oh he did,” came Paul’s voice from the other side of the yard.

Sasha lifted her head up to look over at him, rolling her eyes at him before laying back down. Daryl, on the other hand, got to his feet upon hearing his boyfriend’s voice.

“Hey babe,” he said as he made his way over to Paul.

They kissed briefly in greeting before pulling each other into a tight hug. Paul was super happy that Daryl was now fully healed and felt absolutely no pain when they hugged like this. Paul looked around the yard and was surprised to find it all ready to go.

“Damn, you work fast,” he complimented his boyfriend.

Daryl blushed, “Thanks.”

“You excited for today?”

“Of course, you’ve never planned a bad party.”

“Hey!” Sasha yelled from where she was still lying on the dance floor, “I was apart of this too.”

Daryl chuckled, “I know.”

She sat up and threw his an annoyed glare, “Whatever, I want breakfast.”

She got up and left them in the yard by themselves. Now that they were alone, Daryl gave his boyfriend the kiss he’d really wanted to greet him with, incorporating tongue and everything. Paul moaned into the kiss, happily taking whatever Daryl wanted to give him.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind them is all that stopped them. They both jumped apart at the noise and turned to see a smirking Tiana standing there.

“Your breakfast is getting cold,” she scolded them playfully causing the boys to both blush a deep red.

They followed her back into the house before she could tease them more about what she’d walked in on. They joked and laughed while they ate, mostly at Daryl’s expense as he tried to get any information out of them that he could.

“Come on, I know there’s going to be a special guest already,” Daryl groaned, “Why can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“Who told you someone special was coming?” Tiana demanded to know.

Paul dropped his gaze becoming extremely interested in the french toast on his plate. Tiana noticed this and called him out.

“Paul!” she yelled at him playfully, “How could you?”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it. He’s too cute sometimes,” Paul defended himself, covering his red face with his hands.

Daryl chuckled into his hand.

_ “Or too good at sucking dick,” _ he thought to himself.

Tiana pursed her lips at them, but said nothing. Sasha threw Daryl a knowing look, who just looked away with a slight pink tinge to his cheeks in response. Mercifully, neither of the women pressed them any further on how Daryl had gotten the information from Paul.

* * *

The base was pounding and most of the people at his grad party were already on the dance floor even before they ate. But, what can you expect from a group of friends made up of mostly dancers. Sasha was happily swaying to the beat with Rosita, them both walking the fine line between decent and indecent public displays of affection. Paul wasted no time in pulling Daryl onto the dance floor, too. It was already hot outside because it’s summer in Georgia, but the mass of bodies around them was quickly turning up the heat.

Sasha heard her Ma calling to help her serve the food, so she broke away from Rosita followed closely by Daryl.

“Why are you here?” Tiana asked, “It’s your party, go dance.”

“I want to help, it’s too hot on that dance floor,” he admitted.

Tiana rolled her eyes, but allowed him to accompany her and Sasha into the kitchen. The food for today was a wonderful buffet of southern barbecue. There was some pulled pork, mashed potatoes, collared greens, corn bread, and much more. Sometimes he wondered how she’d managed to make it all in their tiny kitchen.

They each carried out a tray of food, placing them down on the table. It was like they’d put magnet in the food as everyone poured off the dance floor making a bee-line for the food table. He grinned happily as all his guests praised his Ma’s cooking while they loaded up their plates. The only thing being served tonight that wasn’t cooked by his Ma was the cake which was being delivered in about an hour.

Daryl moaned as he bit into his pulled pork sandwich. There was just the right amount of spice to light his taste buds up, but still being balanced out by the bread and pork flavors. The cornbread was wonderful and the collard greens and mashed potatoes made everything come together. Paul was eyeing the cornbread debating with himself about having another piece or waiting for the cake to arrive.

“It’s my graduation,” Daryl said poking his ribs with his elbow, “have both.”

“Well, when you put it that way...” Paul said getting up and making his way back to the table.

Daryl snorted at his boyfriend’s antics, he loved that man so much.

* * *

The sound of a car pulling up alerted Daryl that the cake had arrived. He went to go get it, but his mother waved him off. He was going to be stubborn again and accompany her anyway, but Paul grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the dance floor. Paul threw his arms around Daryl’s neck and kissed his boyfriend to distract him, not that Daryl knew that’s what he was doing.

Paul knew who was delivering the cake and he’d been instructed by Tiana to keep Daryl busy while it was delivered. He felt Daryl’s hands go to his hips as he forgot about everything except his boyfriend’s lips on his own. Paul opened his eyes briefly to see if they were ready yet. He could see them placing the cake down on the table, so just another minute or so.

He broke the kiss with Daryl and immediately moved to layering kisses all across his neck. Daryl closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

“Paul,” Daryl warned, “We can’t be doing this right now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Paul whispered in his ear.

Daryl lent his head forward to fall onto Paul shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. It was one of Daryl’s favorite moves when he wanted to be close to Paul, but was feeling too uncomfortable for anything more intimate. Paul knew that it was a silent plead for him to stop, so he respected his boyfriend’s boundary and stopped what he was doing. However, now that Daryl was resting his head against his neck, Paul could clearly see what was going on over at the cake table.

He let Daryl lean against him, slowly moving to the music until he saw Tiana signal for him that they were ready. He pushed Daryl away from him gently.

“I think your Ma wants to cut the cake,” he explained to Daryl who was annoyed at the loss of contact.

“Fine,” he sighed moving away from his boyfriend.

Paul bit his lip in anticipation as he led Daryl off the dance floor. Daryl got off the dance floor and then looked over at the cake table. The first thing he noticed was the cake. It was a beautiful two tiered cake covered in piped trees making it look like a forest. There were white clouds in the sky and a few 3-D animals decorated the cake. He really liked the two male deer on top of the cake touching their noses together. One was slightly taller and more bulky than the other making it obvious that it was to represent him and Paul.

When his eyes moved to who was standing next to the cake, he stopped dead in his tracks. Paul yelped in surprise at the sudden dead stop of his boyfriend as he tried to walk forward. He glanced back at Daryl only to notice that his eyes were locked on the man standing next to the cake. Paul smiled wide and, with a little difficulty, dropped Daryl’s hand.

Standing there, next to his cake, was his brother, Merle. Daryl couldn’t believe that he was there, let alone believe the fact that he was wearing a t-shirt that read “I love my gay brother” with a huge pride flag on it. Daryl couldn’t take it anymore, he broke into a dead sprint and ran towards his brother. Merle planted his feet in the ground and braced for his brother’s impact which hit him like a ton of bricks.

He could hear Daryl’s harsh breath in his ear as he practically squeezed the life out of him. Their relationship has been slowly been getting better over the past couple years from all Daryl’s visits to the prison. It was almost like the prison was a god-send for their relationship since Merle couldn’t run away and drown his feelings and thoughts out with booze and drugs. It was during their last visit, just before Daryl’s surgery, that Merle had promised Daryl that he was going to stay sober and on the straight and narrow.

Merle pulled his brother tight against him, having not held him since their initial reunion when Daryl was 15, he was 18 now. This hug, however, was much better on so many different levels. This time his brother wasn’t uncomfortable and he wasn’t in jail. That’s when he remembered that Daryl had his titties taken out since he’d last seen him.

“Hey brother,” Merle said, feeling his eyes water.

“Hey,” he whispered back, shaking slightly.

Merle pushed Daryl off him gently, “Let me look at ya.”

Daryl huffed out a short laugh, he was nervous about what his brother was going to say about his body post-surgery.

“You look good brother,” Merle said looking him over, “You look real good.”

“Thanks, Merle.”

“If I didn’t believe you before about being a man, I do now. I can see the joy just radiating off of ya. You look so much happier now than you ever did before.”

Daryl smiled at his brother, he was happy to have his support in everything.

“I love your shirt,” Daryl said rereading it.

Merle chuckled, “I thought it was fitting. Tiana found it for me and gave it to me when she picked me up from prison.”

“Ma,” Daryl said turning to her in shock, “You picked him up?”

She nodded, “He called and asked me too. He didn’t have anyone else to turn to and how could I say no when he’s your brother?”

“Thanks, Ma,” Daryl said pulling her into a hug.

“Now this is all very touching,” Merle said clearing his throat, “I do believe that it’s time for some cake.”

Daryl laughed at his brother’s attempt to end the fluffy moment, but he couldn’t help but agree with him. The cake was delicious and everyone was happy to see Daryl reunited with his brother for good. The man still had quite an abrasive personality and he was still more than a little clueless about certain things, but he was much more tolerant than he used to be.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite get it,” Merle admitted when he was talking to Janet, a gender fluid person.

Daryl watched with a smile on his face as he brother listened to them intently as they tried to explain who they were to him. It made Daryl happy to see his brother trying so hard to become apart of his world. He especially liked to see him asking questions and for clarification when he didn’t understand something instead of flat-out rejecting it.

The rest of his graduation party was a lot of fun as he watched his family members mingle and dance the night away. Even Merle got in on the action, asking Tiana to dance with him. It had been very obvious that Merle wasn’t super experienced in dancing, but he tried his best. Daryl laid his head on Paul’s shoulder and closed his eyes contentedly, his family was finally all together. He couldn’t be happier with how the night had turned out.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. <3


End file.
